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NiAOABA Falls in Wintib.

OUR OWN COUNTRY

CANADA

SCENIC AND DESCRIPTIVE.

BKINU

AN ACCOUNT OF THE EXTENT, RESOURCES, PHYSICAL ASPECT,
INDUSTRIES, CITIES AND CHIEF TOWNS OF THE PROVINCES
OF NOVA SCOTIA, PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND, NEW-
FOUNDLAND, NEW BRUNSWICK, QUEBEC, ONTARIO,
MANITOBA, THE NORTH-WEST TERRITORY,
AND BRITISH COLUMBIA.

WITH SKETCHES OF TRAVEL AND ADVENTURE.

V^. H. V^ITHROW, D.D., F.R.S.C,

Authc. of " The History of Canada, I'he Catacombs of Rome," " A Canadian in Kurope," Etc.

Illustrated with Three Hundred and Sixty Engravings.

® oronfo :

WILLIAM BHIQGS
1889.

' '!'*«.«' r.i'.w-"

^iwgt^a^iii^i I %^wy' ■

Enterad according to the Act of the Parliament cf Canada, in the year one-thousand eight hundred
and eighty-nine, by William Briccs, Book-Steward of the Methodist Boole and Publishing
House, Toronto, at the Department of Agriculture, Ottawa.

"Mr

mmm

GtiR OWN GOyNTRY.

"Methinks I seo in my mind a noble and puissant nation rousing herself like a
strong man after sleep, and shaking her invincible looks ; a nation not slow and dull,
but of a quick, Ingenious, and piercing spirit ; acute to Invent, subtile to discourse,
not beneath the reach of any point that human capacity can soai- to.

"Methinks I see her as an eagle mewing her mighty youth, and kindling her un-
dassled eyes at the full mid-day beam ; purging and unsealing her sight at the fountain
Itself of heavenly radiance."— JfiMon'i " Areopagitica,"

O NATION, young and fair, and strong ! ariso

To the full stature of thy greatness now 1

Thy glorious destiny doth thee endow
With high prerogative. Before thee lies
A future full of promise. Oh ! be wise !

Be great in all things good, and haste to sow

The Present with rich germs from which may grow
Sublime results and noble, high emprise.
Oh I be it hence thy mission to advance

The destinies of man, exalt the race,
And teach down-trodden nations through the expanse

Of the round earth to rise above their base
And low estate, love Freedom's holy cause.
And give to all men just and equal laws.

Oh ! let us plant in the fresh virgin earth
Of this New World, a scion of that tree
Beneath whose shades our fathers dwelt, a free

And noble nation — of heroic birth.

Let the Penates of our fathers' hearth
Be liither borne ; and let us bow the knee

Still at our fathers' altars. O'er the sea

Our hearts yearn fondly and revere their worth.

And though forth-faring from our father's house,
Not forth in anger, but in love we go ;

It lessens not our reverence, but doth rouse
To deeper love than ever we did know.

Not alien and estranged, but sons are we

Of that great Fatherland beyond the sea.

— Wiihrovo.

i
<

1
1

PEEFACE.

A N intelligent acquaintance with the vast extent and
almost boundless resources of the several provinces of
the Dominion of Canada cannot fail to aid the growth of a
national sentiment, and to foster feelings of patriotic pride in
our noble country. To promote that acquaintance by a record
of personal experience in extensive travel throughout the
Dominion, and by the testimony of experts in many depart-
ments of industry, and of the best authorities in statistical and
other information, is the object of this volume.

Now, as never before, our country is attracting the attention
of publicists, and political and social economists of other lands.
Its wealth of field, and forest, and mine ; of lake and river,
inshore and deep-sea fisheries are being recognized in the great
commercial centres of the world. The magnificence of its
scenery, and the attractions offered to votaries of the rod and
gun are attracting tourists, artists, and sportsmen from many
lands. Its numerous places of historic interest, with their
heroic traditions and stirring associations ; and its variety of
character and social conditions, from the cultured society of
its great cities to the quaint simplicity of its French parishes ;
the rugged daring of its fishing villages, the primitive rusticity

PREFACE.

of its backwoods settlements, the bold adventure of its frontier
and mining life, offer to the poet, the novelist, the historian,
an endless variety of environment and ffiotxf for literary treat-
ment which have already enriched both the French and English
languages with works of great and permanent value.

It is the hope of the author that the present work may
foster in the hearts of all Canadian readers — whether Canadians
by birth or by adoption — a still warmer love for the goodly
heritage which Qod has given them, and a still heartier devo-
tion to its best interests — to its political, its intellectual, its
moral, its material welfare.

W. H. W.

■^i^v:^;^-^

w^'^

CONTENTS.

INTRODUCTORY.
The Dominion — Its Extent and Resources ....

PlOB

17-19

NOVA SCOTIA.

Halifax, 21— Historic Memories, 25— Cape Breton, .30— The Brai
d'Or, 32— Sydney, 33— Loui8burg,36— Baddeck, 40— Windsor,
44 — Evangeline's Country, 46— Grand Prrf, 47— Annapolis,
52 — Yarmouth, 58— Moose Hunting, 59 — Fort Lawrence, 65
— Tidal Streams

PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND.
Ice Ferry, 68— Charlottetown, 69— Magdalen Islands, 69— Dead

Man's Isle, 70— The Lord's-Day Gale 71-73

NEWFOUNDLAND.

Extent, etc.,75— St. John's, 79 — Fish Curing, 83 — Sealing and Seals,
86— Mining, 97— Travel, 98— Telegraph Cable, 101— "Isles of
Demons," 103— "Fishing Admirals," 104— Labrador, 106—
Anticosti 106

NEW BRUNSWICK.

Fort Cumberland, 109— Sackville, 110— Moncton, 112— St. John,
113 — High Tides, 116 — Fort La Tour, 119— Suspension
Bridge, 120— U. E. Loyalists, 122— River St. John, 123—
Fredericton, 124— The Upper St. John and Grand Falls, 126—
Grand Manan, 127— Miramichi, Forest Fires, 129 — Bathurst,
130— Bay of Chaleurs, 130— The Restigouche, 131— Camp*
bellton

133

QUEBEC.

The Metapedia, 138— " Jaw-breaking " Poetry, 141— The St Law-
rence, 142— The Gulf, 143— Footprints of the Pioneers, 146—
The JIa6t<on«», 147— River Ports, 149— Cacouna, 160— The
Saguenay, 162— Capes Trinity and Eternity, 164— Tadousao,
156— South Shore, 16a-North Shor«, 162— Mai Bale, 163
— Medieeval Villages, 164— Ste. Anne, 166— C6te de Beauprtf

167

//J

viU

CONTENTS.

PAoa

City of Quebec, 100— Ita Stoned Paat, 173— Iti Oonvente, etc.,

177— Quaint Streeti, 180— Old Ofttea nnd W«1U, 181— Dur^
ham Terrace, 183— The Citadel, 184— Plains of Abraham, 186
—Wolfe and Montcalm, 186-192- Arnold, 193— Montgomery,

194 — Montmorenci, 196 — Champlain 202

Eantern Townships, 207 — Memphremagog, 208 — Founding of
' Ville Marie, 214— Iroquois Attacks, 221— Old Landmarks,
224— Then and Now, 226— Winter Sports, 236— Ice PaUce,
Snow Shoeing, etc 237-241

ONTARIO.

Ottawa, 243— Parliament Buildings, 244— Timber Slides, 247— Down
the Ottawa, 248— The " Thermopyloe of Canada," 249~Oka,
250— Ste. Anne's 251

Eangston, 252— Frontenac, 253— The Thousand Isles, 265—
River Towns, 260— Barbara Heck, 261— The Rapids, 266—
Bay of Quinte 271

Toronto, 273— Fort Rouilltf, 276— Governor Simcoe, 279— Early

History, 280— Progress, 284— Churches, etc 284-280

Niagara Frontier, 290— Old St. Mark's, 202— U. E. Loyalists,
297-304— The Hungry Year, 300— Queenston Heights, 311—
Bridging the River, 312— Niagara Falls, 317— Beneath the
Falls, 322— The Falls in Winter, 329-337— The Suspension
Bridge, 338— The Whirlpool 340

South- Western Peninsula, 342 — Education, 344 — Laura Secord,
346 -Hamilton, 361— Dundas Valley, 363- Grand River, 364
— Indian Reserves, 364 — London and Western Towns, 365—
Oil Wells and Oil Industry of Canada, 368-368— The Muskoka

Lakes, 371-382— Lakes Huron and Superior 382-386

Lumbering on the Ottawa, 390 — A Wolf Story, 402 — A Log Jam,
406— Rafting, 409— Over the C. P. R., 412— The Narth Shore
ai\d the Nipigon, 416— Thunder Bay, 417— Fort William,
419— Lake of the Woods 422

)

MANITOBA AND NORTH-WEST TERRITORY.

Extent and Character of the North- West, 423— Winnipeg, 433— Red
River Voyageur, 436 — St. Bonifac«, 437 — Bright Auguries,

439— The Prairies, 442— Prairie Towns 444

The North- West Territory— Assiniboia, 447— Bell Farm, ''49—
Alberta, 449 — Saskatchewan, 461 — Athabasca, 463 — Indian
Types, 454 — Ranching, 468 — Fur Trading and Trapping, 460
-Canoe Life, 463— Portages and Rapids, 465-468— The Sel<
vedge of Civilization, 469 — Indian Missions, 470 — Snow Shoe-

^^W^Ivk"

CONTENTS. is

PAoa
ing and Dor Trains, 473— Camping Out in Winter, 479—

Indian Hupentitiona, 481 -Wigwam Life, 484 — Miaaionary

HeroUm, 480— The Indian Problem, 488— Our Wards 400

▲onMB the Continent, 404 — Wild Game of the Prairies, 490—

Medicine Hat, 409— Foundations of Empire, 600— Prairie

Morals, 603— The Rockies, 605— Calgary, 600— On the Kick-

ing Horse 610

BRITISH COLUMBIA.

Extent and Resources, 611— Mount Stephen, hlO- TheH "' of the
Selkirks, 622- Climbing a Glacier, 620— 8now Shedb Vl—
Rogers' Pass, 620— Bold Engineering, 632— Salmon >Vhecl,
634— The Thompson River, 640— The Cariboo l»oaii, 642—
Mining Life, 643— Fraser Canyon, 646— YpIc 647— The
Lower Fraser, 548— The Pacific Coast, 560— Vancouver City,
652 --''■' ancouver Island, 663 — "Victoria, 655— The Olympics,
567 Esquimault and its Men-of-War 659

The Chinese Quarter, 560— Joss- House, 504- Sabe? 56u— Wife

Purchase 666

Indian Villages, 568— Totem Poles, 509— Mission Work, 570 -

Little Jim 571

The Inland Passage, 672— Boundless View, 575 — Metlakahtla,

576— Port Simpson 578

Alaska, 578— St. Elias, 581— The Stickeen, 683— Sitka, 585—

•' Home of the Glaciers " 687

Port Moody, 589— Giant Pines, 590— A Salmon Cannery, 592—
New Westminster, 594 — Mountain Glory and Mountain
Gloom, 696— Banff Springs, 600— Fountains of Healing, 602
—Grand Scenery, 603-Our Heritage, 006— Its Future 608

LIST OF ENGEAVINGS.

Many of them Fcll Page.

Niagara Falls in Winter Frontispiece

Wolfe's Cove, Quebec 16

NOVA SCOTIA. rAGB

Halifax, from the Citadel 20

Intercolonial Station, Halifax. . . 27

A Fishin); Village, Cape Breton. 31

North Sydney, Ship-Railway. . . 3.3

Ruins of Louisburg 37

Primitive Post 0£fice, Cape Bre-
ton 42

Tail-piece 43

Expulsion of the Acadians 46

Grand Pr6 49

Ancient Archway, Annapolis. . . 63

In the Bay of Fundy 56

Salmon Stream 60

Moose Hunting 62

Folly Viaduct 64

Tail-pieces 66, 73

NEWFOUNDLAND.

City of St. John's, Newfoundland 74

Entrance to St. John's 76

Signal Station, St. John's 78

Fish Curing, St. John's 82

Fish Flakes 84

Seal Hunter in Snow Storm .... 80

Sealers at Work 94

Betts' Covo, Notre Dame Bay . . 98

Placentio 99

Tailpiece 107

NEW BRUNSWICK.

Snspensiou Bridge, St. John,N. B. 108

Beacon Li^jht 113

St. John, N.B 114

Timber Ship 116

Cantilever Bridge, St. John .... 117

PAOB

OldFort 118

St. John River 120

Martello Tower 121

River Landing 124

The Cliffs, Grand Manan 128

Salmon Fishing 132

Sugar-Loaf Mountain 134

Tailpiece 135

QUEBEC.

Quebec from the Cita<lel 136

MillStream 138

S.-vImou Fishing 139

On the Causapscal 140

Grand and Petit M^tis 146

Canadian Sawmills 160

Fails of Riviere du Loup 161

Capes Trinity and Eternity .... 164

Old Church, Tadousac 16t

QCEBEO CITY.

City of Quebec 161

Quebec, from Point Levis 168

Quebec in 1837 170

Wolfe's Old Monument 171

Old Poplars and Ramparts 172

Shell Guns 173

Interior of the Citadel 174

Old St. John's Gate 176

Esplanade, Quebec 178

Sous Le Cap Alley 179

A Street in Quebec 180

Old French House 181

Old Hope Gate 182

Citadel, from the Wharf 183

View from Governor - General's

Head-quarters 184

LIST OF ENGRA VINGS.

j 187
I 188
\ 189

Chain Gate and Martello Tower. 185

Inside Citadel 188

St. John'sGate

Old Prescott Gate

St. John's Gate in Winter.

New St. Louis Gate

New Kent Gate

Old Hope Gate

The Death of Wolfe 190

Wolfe's New Monument 191

Old St. Louis Gate 192

Face of Citadel Cliff 194

Old Palace Gate 197

A Calficlie 198

Timber Rafts on St. Lawrence . . 204
On Lake Memphremagog. . . .209,212

MONTREAL.

Bon Secours Church 224

Place d'Armes 225

Montreal from the Mountain . . 226

In Jacques Cartier Square 229

New Methodist Church^ 231

Victoria Bridge, Montreal 233

Montreal Ice Palace 234

Inpide the Ice Palace 235

Obstacle Race on the Ice 236

Montreal Snow Shoe Club 233

Tobogganing on Mount Royal . . 239

Games on the River 240

Tail-piece 241

ONTARIO.

Niagara Falls 242

Parliament Buildings, Ottawa . . 244

City of Ottawa 246

Parliament Buildings 247

Departmental Buildings, E. Block 248

« (c vv. " 249

Post Office, Ottawa 250

Military College, Kingston 253

Twilight Amid the Thousand

Islands . 256

The Devil's Oven 257

Among the Isles 258

Nature's Carnival of Isles . . 259

Lighthouse in Thousand Islands. 260

Descending Lachine Rapids . . , . 266

PAOI

Raft in the Rapids 267

Running the Rapids 268

Tailpiece 271

TORONTO.

New Parliament Buildings 272

Toronto in 1834 273

Old Blockhouse 274

Toronto 275

Custom House, Toronto 276

OsgoodeHall 277

Metropolitan Methodist Church. 27S

St. James' Cathedral 27fi

St. Alban's Cathedral 280

Now Western Meth. Church. ... 281

Sherbourno St. Meth. Church . . 282

Exhibition Buildings 283

Horticultural Gardens 284

Government House 285

Exhibition Grounds 286

Toronto University 287

At High Park 288

Tailpiece 280

NIAGARA FRONTIER.

Governor Simcoe 290

St. Mark's Church 293

Interior St Mnrk's Church 294

Miss Rye's Orphanage 295

Fort ^lissiaauga, Niagara 296

W^ H. Howland's Residence,

Niagara Assembly 306

Sunny Bunk 307

Lansdowne Villa 308

View from Queenston Heights . 309

Brock's Monument 310

Below the Cantilever Bridge .... 311

Cantilever Bridge — Building Pier 312

Cantilever Bridge 313

Building Cantilever Bridge .... 314

" E. Pier. 315
Cantilever Bridge— Constructing

Overhang 316

Below the American Falls 317

Niagara Falls by Moonlight .... 318

Diagram of Lake Levels 319

Ferry Landing, Canadian Side.. 320

Falls of Niagara, " " .. 321

Niagara Falls in 1674 322

LIST OF ENGRA VINGS.

xUI

325

PACE

Niagara River, Canadian Side . . 323

Horse Shoe Falls 324

Bridge to Luna Isle \

The Cataract above Goat Isl'd. /

Prom Goat Island 326

The American Fall, Canadian

Side !.... 329

The American Fall 330

Old Terrapin Tower 331

The Bridge Leading to Bath and

Goat Island 332

Bird's-eye View of Falls. Cana-
dian Side 333

Beneath Canadian Falls 334

Icicles and Stalagmites 335

Winter Foliage, Goat Island. ... 336

Niagara in Winter 337

Suspension Bridge 338

Whirlpool, Niagara 339

Whirlpool Rapids 340

Grand Rapids of Niagara 341

SODTU-WESTEBN ONTARIO.

Sunday Morning in Ontario . . . .

On the Canal

Old Grist Mill

Grimsby Park

Victoria Terrace

Park Row

Vineyard at East Hamilton . . . .

Farm Scenery

Hamilton, Ontario.

On the Grand Rive;

Indian Village

London, Ontario

Canadian Homestead, Delaware.

Torpedoing Oil Well

Burning Well

Oil Tank on Fire

A Still Sequestered Nook

MCSKOKA.

Bits in M-. .* 370

Old Anchor, Holland Landing. 372

Grape Island, Simcoe 373

Falls of the Severn 374

On the Severn 375

Granite Notch 376

342
343
344
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
359
363
367
369

PACB

High Falls, Bracebridge 377

Sportsman's Paradise 378

Duck Shooting on Lake Kosseau 379

Making a Portage 380

Running a Rapid 381

Natural Bridge, Mackinac 383

Sault Ste. Marie 384

C. P. R. Bridge over Don Valley 386

On Charbot Lake 388

St. Lawrence Bridge 389

ON THE OTTAWA, ETC.

French-Canadian Village 390

Head Waters of the Ottawa 391

Saw Mill in the Woods 392

Typical Saw Mills 393

Part of Logging Camp 394

In the Pine Forest 395

Loading Logs 396

Loading Logs with Cant-hooks . . 397

Canadian Autumn 399

Drawing Logs on the Ice 400

A Log Jam 407

Breaking a Log Jam 408

Down at the Boom 412

Rafting at the Mattawa 411

In a C. P. R. Sleeping Car .... 413

Thunder Cape 418

McKay's Mountain 419'

Kakabeka Falls 420

Rat Portage 421

On Lake-of-the-Woods 422

MANITOBA AND NORTH-WEST
TERRITORY.

An Immigrant Train 424

Brealiiug up a Prairie Farm .... 426
Sulky Plouglis on Bell F.irin . . 428

Princess Louise Bridge \^\

Winnipeg in 1872 432

Winnipeg in 1884 434

Old Fort Garry 437

Town Hall, Winnipeg 438

Homestead Farm, Kildonan .... 440

Red River Cart 441

On the Prairie 443

Brandon, Manitoba 444

Qu'Appelle Valley 448-

xiv

LIST OF ENGRA VINGS.

PAGB

Prairie I*loughing 449

Bell Farm, Indian Head Station. 450
Twenty-three Reapers at Work. 452

INDIAN SCENES.

Indian Medicine Man 454

Assiniboine Indian Half-breed . . 455

Squaw with Papoose 456

Indian Lad 456

Camping Scenes 457

Ualf-Breed and Huskio Dog .... 450

Old Time Trading Post 480

Hudson Bay Post 461

Hunter's Winter Camp 462

Shooting a Rapid 464

Making a Portage 465

Tracking a Canoe 466

Portage Landing 467

A Northern River 468

Fishing Through the Ice 469

. Indians Drying Buffalo Meat . . 471

Snow-bhoeing 472

Dog Train and Indian Runner . . 474
Rev. E. R. Young, in Winter

Costume 475

A Fight in Harness 476

Rev. H. B. Steinhauer 478

Camping Out in the North- West 480

War Dance in the Sky 481

The Giant of Lake Winnipeg . . 482

An Indian Village 484

Tepees of the Plain Indian .... 485
Indian Grave on the Plains .... 486

Rev. Geo. M. McDougall 487

Indian Missionary 488

Indian Type, with Eagle Head-
dress 490

Indian Type, with Bears' Claws

Necklace 491

Thayendinaga, Joseph Brant... . 492

Pawnee Chief in War Dress (93

Prairie Happy Family 495

Fowling in the Far West 497

Medicine Hat 498

Savagery v«. Civilization 601

IN THE BOCKIES.

Foothills of the Rookies 605

PAGB

The Rocky Mountains from Bow

River 606

Approaching the Rockies 507

At Canmore'' 508

Summit of the Rockies 509

On the Kicking Horse 610

Rocky Mountains from Canmore 613
Field Station and Mt. Stephen. . 516
Morning on the Mountains .... 516
Mount Stephen, near Summit . . 517

Beaver Lake 618

Silver City and Castle Mountain. 519
Surveyors' Camp 620

BRITISH COLUMBIA.

Beaver Foot Range 521

In the Heart of the Selkirks .... 523

Mountain Torrent 524

In the Selkirks — View near Gla-
cier House 625

Glacier of the Selkirks 526

Snow Sheds 527

Mirror Lake 523

In the lUicilliwaet 529

River Canyon 530

Wire Rope Ferry on the Colum-
bia 531

The Lower Columbia and Mount

Hood 632

Mount Hood P33

Salmon Wheel and Fisherman . . 634

Shuswap Lake 635

Near Kamloops 536

On the Thompson River 537

On Cariboo Creek 638

A Glacier 639

Tunnel on the Fraser 640

Another Tunnel \ ...

At the Cliff Foot J

The Old Cariboo Road 642

Before the Railway 543

On the Road to Cariboo Mines . , 544

Store at Leech River, B.C 546

Rattlesnake Grade, B.C 616

Yale, B.C 647

On the Lower Fraser 648

Rail v«. River 549

LIST OF ENGRA VINGS.

FACinC COAST. FACE

The Germ of Vancouver 551

Norwegian Barque 553

In the Gulf of Georgia 554

City of Victoria 555

The Olympian Range 557

Mount Baker, from Victoria 558

In Esquiniault Harbour 559

A Burden Bearer 560

Young China 561

Chinese Artists 562

Chinese Gentlemen 563

A Chinese Joss- House 565

The Little Bride S67

Indian Village and Totem Poles. 569

Indian Graves 570

On the Inland Passage 573

A Heavy Sea 574

Sunset on the Pacific 575

Nature's Monument 576

West Coast Indian Village 577

ALASKA, ETC. rAGB

Fir Forest, Alaska 579

Sitka, Alaska 681

Alaskan Cliffs 582

Thousand Islands, Sitka 584

Interior of Greek Church 586

Arctic Fjord in Winter 587

Typical Glacier 588

Among the Douglas' Pines .... 590

Hauling Saw Logs, B.C 591

A Log Team 594

Saw Mills in British Columbia . . 595

Chinese Barber 596

Yale, and Fraser Canyon 597

New Westminster, B.C 598

Mount Tacoma 599

Banff 600

On the Bow River 601

The Mountain Solitude 603

On the Head Waters of the Mat-
tawa 605

OUR OWN COUNTRY,

PICTURESQUE AND DESCRIPTIVE.

-■■ •

UNTTRODUCTORT

THE Dominion of Canada comprises an area in round
numbers of 3,500,000 square miles. This is nearly
equal to the extent of the whole continent of Europe, and is
127,000 square miles greater than the whole of the United
States of America. It extends from east to west 3,500 miles,
and from south to north about 1,900 miles. A large proportion
of this vast territory is very fertile, while much of the uncul-
tivable portion abounds in mineral wealth. It has the largest
and best wheat-producing area in the world. Its forests pre-
sent the amplest supply of the finest timber yet remaining to
man. Its fisheries, both of the Atlantic and Pacific Coast, ex-
ceed in value those of any otlier country. Of this magnificent
national inheritance we purpose to give a concise description,
with copious pictorial illustrations.

Throughout the length and breadth of this great country the
present writer has travelled extensively — from the rocky ex-
tremity of Cape Breton, lashed with the Atlantic surges, to the
forest-crested heights of Vancouver Island, whence one sees the
sun go down in golden glory beneath the boundless-seeming
waters of the Pacific Ocean. Most of the descriptions which
follow are the result of personal experience and observation.
Where these sources fail, I draw upon the best available authori-
ties. I shall take the reader, who favours me with his attention,
freely into my confidence, and address him frankly in the first

EXTENT AND

person. It is hoped that a more familiar acquaintance with the
magnificent extent, and varied beauty, and almost boundless
resources of our country will foster among us a still more
ardent patriotism and devotion to its welfare.

D. Cameron, Esq., of Lucknovr, in the Canadian Methodist Magazine
for December, 1887, describes the extent and resources of the Dominion, as
follows : —

" B^ew realize from the mere quotations of figures the enormous extent
of our great country. For instance, Ontario is larger than Spain, nearly
as large as France, nearly as large as the great German Empire, as large as
Sweden, Denmark and Belgium, and larger than Italy, Switzerland, Den-
mark, Belgium, and Portugal.

"Quebec is as large as Norway, Holland, Portugal and Switzerland.
British Columbia is as large as France, Norway and Belgium. Nova Scotia
and New Brunswick are as large as Portugal and Denmark. Ontario and
Quebec are nearly as large as France, Italy, Portugal, Holland and Belgium.

"Canada is forty times as large as England, Wales and Scotland combined.
New South Wales contains an area of 309,175 square miles, and is liirger
than France, Italy and Sicily ; and yet Canada would make eleven countries
the size < >f New South Wales. British India is large enough to contain a
population of 250,000 millions ; and yet three British Indias could be
carved out of Canada, and still leave enough to make a Queensland and a
Victoria. Canada is sixteen times as large as the great German Empire,
with its twenty-seven provinces, and its overshadowing influence in Euro-
pean aflairs.

"These magnificent fresh-water seas of Canada, together with the majestic
St. Lawrence, form an unbroken water communication for 2,140 miles.

" Our fisheries are the richest in the world. The deep sea fisheries of
Canada, including those of Newfoundland, yielded in 1881 the enormous
product of 920,000,000, or about double the average value of the fisheries
of the United States, and neorly equal in value to^ the whole produce of
the British European fisheries. In 1885, the fisheries of Canada alone
yielded nearly $18,000,000.

" Our magnificent forests are of immense value, and contain no less than
sixty-nine different varieties of wood. In 1885, our exports of products of
the forest amounted to $21,000,000.

•* Our mines, which are yet in their infancy of development, give promise
of vast wealth. Coal in abundance is found in Nova Scotia, New Bruns-
wick, British Columbia and the North- West Territories. Our coal areas
are estimated at upwards of 100,000 square miles, not including areas
known, but as yet quite undeveloped, in the far North. Already coal areas
to the extent of 65,000 square miles have been discovered in the North-
West, while Nova Scotia and New Brunswick contain 18,000 square miles

RESOURCES OF CANADA.

of this iinpnrtnnt element of wealth. Wheu it is remembered that the
entire coal area of Great Britain covers only 11,900 square miles, the ex-
tent of our resources in this direction will be apj>rcciated.

" Canada has also valuable mines of gold, silver, iron, lead, copper and
other metals. The gold mines of British Columbia have yielded during the
past twcnty-fivo years over $50,000,000 worth of the precious metal, wliile
Nova Scotia has, up to the present, produced nearly $8,000,000 worth.
Wo have upwards of 12,000 miles of railway in operation, representing the
enormous value of over $626,000,000.

" In 18G8 we had but 8,500 miles of electric telegraph. To-day we have
over 50,000 miles, besides an important and growing telephone service.

"Canada is the third maritime power of the world, being exceeded only
by Great Britiiin and the United States.

"The trade of Canada is assuming highly respectable proportions, and
gives further evidence of the energetic and Enterprising character of our
people, In 1868, the first year of Confederation, our total trade was
$131,000,000. In 1883 it had grown to $230,000,000, an increase of
$100,000,000, or an average of nearly $7,000,000 dollars a year. The Bank
of Montreal, a purely Canadian institution, is the largest, wealthiest, most
influential and widely-extended banking corporation in the world uncon-
nected with Government.

" Our public works especially evidence the pluck, energy and entcrprike
of tjie Canadian people. The Canadian Pacific Railway, that mighty trans-
continental line, recently completed from ocean to ocean, binding the scat-
tered parts of this vast Confederation together, is the longest railway in the
world, and is the most stupendous public enterprise ever undertaken and
successfully accomplished by a country of the population of this Dominion.
The Intercolonial Railway, connecting Quebec with the Maritime Provinces,
covers 890 miles, and cost over $40,000 000 ; while the Grand Trunk Rail-
way was, until the completion of the Canadian Pacific, the longest railway
in the world under one management, its total length being 3,300 miles.

" Canada has constructed twenty-three miles of canak at a cost of nearly
830,000,000."

•^•ffij

HALIFAX.

:N^0YA SCOTIA.

WE will begin our survey of our noble national in-
heritance, with the sea-board province of Nova Scotia,
which stretches its deeply-indented peninsula far out into
the Atlantic, as if to be the first portion of the Dominion
to welcome visitors from the Old World. With the exception
of Prince Edward Island, it is the smallest of the Canadian
Provinces. Its entire length from Cape St., Mary to Cape
Canseau is 386 miles. It breadth varies from 50 to 104 miles.
Its area is 18,670 square miles. Its soil is generally fertile, and
its climate is favourable to agriculture. For fruits of the apple
family it is unsurpassed, and good grapes are often grown in
the open air. It was said by an old French writer that Aqadia
produced readily everything that grew in France, except the
olive. No country of its size in the world has more numerous
or more excellent harbours; and, except Great Britain, no
country has, in proportion to its population, so large a tonnage
of shipping.

HALIFAX.

Halifax, the capital of the province, occupies a commanding
position on one of the finest harbours in the world. It is the
chief naval station of Great Britain in the western hemisphere,
and here in landlocked security "all the navies of Europe"
might safely float. The city slopes majestically up from the
waterside to the citadel-crowned height of two hundred and
fifty feet, and around it sweeps the North-West Arm, a winding
inlet, bordered with elegant villas. The citadel was begun by
the Duke of Kent, father of Queen Victoria, and has been con-
tinually strengthened till it has become a fortress of the first
class.

On a glorious summer morning in August, 1887, 1 climbed the
citadel hill. Never was a more perfect day. Earth and sky
were new washed by a recent rain. The magnificent harbour

THK CITADEL.

sparkled like sapphire. The nignal flagstaHk of the fort made
it look like a three-masted ship that had stranded on a lofty
hill-top. On every side sloped the smooth glacis, with the
quaint town clock in the foreground. Peaceful kino cropped
the herbage even to the edge of the deep moat, from whoso
inner side rose a massive wall, concealing huge earth-roofed
and sodded casemates within and presenting yawning embra-
sures above.

A garrulous old sailor with telescope beneath his arm
sauntered along. He kindly pointed out the chief objects of
interest — the many churches, the men-of-war and merchant
shipping ; on the opposite shore the pleasant* town of Dart-
mouth, the distant forts, George's Island, which lay like a toy
fort beneath the eye, carved and scarped and clothed with living
green, and farther off McNab's Island and the far-stretching
vista to the sea, just as shown in the engraving on page 20.
Mine ancient mariner had sailed out of Halifax as boy and
man for forty years, and was full of reminiscences. He pointed
out the tortuous channel by which the confederate cruiser
Tallahasse escaped to sea one dark night, despite a blockading
United States squadron. He said that the harbour was studded
with mine torpedoes which could blow any ship out of the
water ; and that a hostile vessel attempting to enter at night
would strike electric buoys which would so indicate her position
that the fire of all the forts could be concentrated upon her in
the dark.

Presently a crowd began to gather on the hillside, including
many old bronzed tars, red-jackets and artillery-men, and I
discovered that a grand regatta was to come off between the
yachts Dauntless and Galatea. The bay was full of sails
flitting to and fro, and like snowy sea-birds with wings aslant,
in the brisk breeze the contending yachts swept out to sea.
I thought what gallant fleets had ploughed these waves during
the hundred years that the harbour had been a great naval
rendezvous. It was a pretty sight to see the boat-drill of the
blue-jackets of the great sea-kraken Bellerophon, or "Billy
Ruffi,n," as mine ancient mariner called it — as they manoeuvred
around the huge flag-ship.

PUBLIC GARDENS.

iluding
and I
en the
E sails
aslant,
.0 sea.
luring
naval
lof the
\BVLly
tuvred

Near the citadel hill are the public gardens, comprising
seventeen acres, beautifully laid out, with broad parterres and
floral designs. Nowhere else have I ever seen such good taste
and beautiful gardening, except, perhaps, at the royal pleasaunce
of Hampton Court. Certainly, I know no American public
gardens that will compare with the.se. The old gardener was
as proud of his work as a mother of her baV>e, and as fond of
hearing it praised. In the evening I attended a military concert
here. The scene was like fairyland. Festoons of coloured lights
illuminated the grounds and outlined every spar and rope of a
toy ship that floated on a tiny lake. On this lake a novel kind
of water fire- works were exhibited, and the orderly and well-
dressed throngs sauntered to and fro enjoying a ministry of
beauty that many larger cities might emulate.

Near the gardens is the new cemetery. The older burying
ground is of special interest. On some of the mossy slabs, beneath
the huge trees, I found inscriptions dating back a hundred
years. The monument of Welsford and Parker, Nova Scotian
heroes of the Crimean war, is finely conceived. A massive
arch supports a statue of a grim-looking lion — the very em-
bodiment of British defiance. Here is the common grave of
fourteen officers of the war-ships Chesapeake and Shannon,
which crept side by side into the harbour, reeking like a sham-
bles after a bloody sea-fight over seventy years ago. I observed
the graves of four generations of the honoured family of Haii-
burton. On a single stone were the names of eleven A. B.
sailors — victims of yellow fever. On some of the older slabs
symbolism was run mad. On one I noticed a very fat cherub,
a skull and cross-bones, an hour-glass and a garland of flowers.

Opposite this quiet God's acre is the quaint old brown stone
Government House, where Goyernor Ritchie, the honoured son
of an honoured sire, presides with dignity and grace. In the
Court House, near by, is a novel contrivance. The prisoner is
brought from the adjacent jail by a covered passage, and is
shot up into the dock on a slide trap, like a jack-in-a-box. The
Hospital and Asylums for the Blind and for the Poor, the latter
said to have cost $260,000, are fine specimens of ar'*' *^?cture,
as is also the New Dalhousie College. The new cit;, buildings

DARTMOUTH.

\$:^

will be a magnificent structure. The old Parliament House
was considered, sixty years ago, the finest building in America,
It is still quite imposing. Dr. Allison, the accomplished Super-
intendent of Education, showed me in the library, what might
be called the Doomsday Book of Nova Scotia, with the register
of the names and taxable property of, among others, my grand-
father and grand-uncles, who were U. E. Loyalist refugees from
Virginia.

I was told a story of the Wesleyan Book-Room, which if
not true deserves to be. A Yankee book peddler seeing over
the door the word " Wesleyan," asked if Mr. Wesley was in,
" He has been dead nearly a hundred years," said the clerk.
" I beg pardon," replied the peddler, " I'm a stranger in these
parts."

Few cities in the world can present so noble a drive as that
through the beautiful Point Pleasant Park — on the one side the
many-twinkling smile of ocean, on the other a balm-breathing
forest and the quiet beauty of the winding North- West Arm.
At one point, in the old war times, a heavy iron chain wtus
stretched across this inlet to prevent the passage of hostile
vessels.

I crossed afterwards, in a golden sunset, to the pleasant town
of Dartmouth, with its snow-white houses and neat gardens.
The waters of the broad bay were flashing like a sea of glass
mingled with fire; and a few minutes later deepened into
crimson, as if the sinking sun had turned them into blood, as
did Moses the waters of the Nile. The return trip in the
darkealag twilight was very impressive. The huge hulks of
the warships loomed vaguely in the gathering gloom, while the
waves quivered with many a light from ship and shore — the
white blaze of the electric lamps contrasting with the ruddy
glow of the oil lanterns on the crowded shipping.

Halifax is in appearance and social tone probably the most
British city on the continent. Long association with the army
and navy have accomplished this. For a hundred years British
red-coats and blue-jackets thronged its streets. Princes and
dukes, admirals and generals, captains and colonels, held high
command and dispensed a graceful hospitality, royal salutes

HISTORIC MEMORIES.

were fired from fort and fleet, yards were manned and gay
bunting fluttered in the breeze, drums beat and bugles blew
with a pomp and circumstance equalled not even at the for-
tress-city of Quebec. It is to a stranger somewhat amusing to
see the artillery -troopers striding about, with their legs wide
apart, their clanking spurs, their natty canes, and their tiny
caps perched on the very comer of their heads.

" One should have a sail on Bedford Basin," says one who
knew Halifax well, " that fair expanse of water — broad, deep,
blue, and beautiful. It was on the shore of this Basin that the
Duke of Kent had his residence, and the remains of the music
pavilion still stands on a height which overlooks the watei-.
The ' Prince's Lodge,' as it is called, may be visited during the
land drive to Bedford, but the place is sadly shorn of its former
glory ; and the railway, that destroyer of all sentiment, runs
directly through the grounds. It was a famous place in its
day, however, and the memory of the Queen's father will long
continue to be held in honour by the Halifax people." I saw
in the Parliamentary library a striking portrait of the Duke of
Kent, wonderfully like his daughter. Queen Victoria, in her
later years.

" Halifax has communication with all parts of the world, by
steamer and sailing vessel. Hither come the ocean steamships
with mails and passengers, and numbers of others which make
this a port to call on their way to and from other places. A
large trade is carried on with Europe, the United States, and
the West Indies, and from here, also, one may visit the fair
Bermudas, or' the rugged Newfoundland."

The early nistory of Halifax is one of romantic interest.
Nearly half a century had passed since the cession of Acadia to
Great Britain by the peace of Utrecht, yet not a step had been
taken towards settlement. An energetic movement was made
for the colonization of the country, under the auspices of the
Board of Trade and Plantations, of which Lord Halifax was
the President. On account of its magnificent harbour, one of
the finest in the world, Chebucto, or Halifax, as it was hence-
forth to be called, in honour of the chief projector of tiie enter-
prise, was selected as the site of the new settlement. In the

!;i

ATLANTIC TELEGRAPH.

m i

jQonth of July, 1749, Governor Cornwallis, in H.M. ship
Sphynx, followed by a fleet of thirteen transports, conveying
nearly three thousand settlers, — disbanded soldiers, retired
officers, mechanics, labourers, and persons of various rank, —
reached Chebucto Bay. On a rising ground, overlooking the
noble bay, the woods were cleared and the streets of a town
laid out. In busy emulation, the whole company was soon at
work, and before winter three hundred log-houses were con-
structed, besides a fort, store-houses, and residence for the
Governor, — the whole surrounded by a palisade.

It has been since then the scene of many a gallant pageant, but
none of these, I think, were of greater moral significance than one
which I witnessed jnirty years ago. I happened to be ir. Halifax
when the steamship arrived with the first Atlantic submarine
telegraph cable. She was a rust-stained, grimy-looking craft, sea-
worn with a long and stormy voyage. But never gallant ship
received a warmer or a more well-deserved greeting. A double
royal salute was fired from fort and fleet, yards were manned and
many-coloured bunting fluttered, in honour of the greatest scien-
tific achievement of recent times. The first message transmitted
was one of peace on earth and good will to men an augury of
the blessed time wheii the whole world shall be knit together
in bonds of brotherhood. But alas ! the continuity of the cable
was in a short time interrupted, and the whispered voice be-
neath the sea from the Old World to the New for nearly ten
years was silent. To overcome the loss of faith in the scheme
and other obstacles to its completion, its daring projector, Cyrus
W. Field, crossed the Atlantic fifty times, and at last, like a new
Columbus, to use the words of John Bright, " moored the New
World alongside of the Old ;" or, to adopt the beautiful simile
of Dr. George Wilson, welded the marriage-ring which united
two hemispheres.

The accompanying cut gives a good idea of the handsome Hali-
fa.^ terminus of the Intercolonial Railway. Till the completion
of the Canadian Pacific this was our greatest national work. It
still is a system of incalculable value to the Maritime Provinces.
Before these great roads w ere completed, the Dominion was a
giant without bones. But these roads, extending neK,iiy four

THE SHUBENACADIE.

thousand miles from the Atlantic to the Pacific, have given it a
backbone, a spinai cord, and a vital artery that will contri-
bute marvellously to its organic life and energy.

Intercolonial Railway Station, Halifax.

HALIFAX TO CAPE BRETON.

It was on a bright August day that I left Halifax for a run
through Eastern Nova Scotia and Cape Breton Island. As
the train swept around Bedford Basin, magnificent vistas by
sea and land were obtained. As we advanced, the fair expanse
of Grand Lake, and the beautiful valley of the Shubenacadie,
gave variety to the scenery. The Shubenacadie is a large swift
stream, and was at one time regarded as the future highway of
commerce across the province. More than fifty years aero the
people of Halifax resolved to construct a canal connecting this
river with tide water at Dartmouth. Surveys were made and
a number of locks were built, the stone for which, I was told,
was all brought out ready hewn from Scotland — genuine
Aberdeen granite — though not a whit better than that on
the spot. But the canal was never built, and never will be.

TRURO.

The railway has more than filled its place, and the locks make
picturesque ruins and water-falls along the projected route of
the canal.

Colchester County, through v/hich we are now passing,
abounds in large tracts of rich intervale and excellent upland,
which makes the district a good one for the farmer — one of the
best in Nova Scotia. The pretty town of Truro, near the head
of Cobequid Bay, with its elegant villas, trim lawns and gar-
dens, and magnificent shade trees, presents a very attractive
appearance. The Provincial Normal and Model Schools are
noteworthy features of the place. The town is nearly sur-
rounded by an amphitheatre of gracefully rounded hills, and
on the west by the old diked meadows of the Acadian period.

On the Cobequid mountains, and on the upper waters of the
Stewiacke River, are found considerable numbers of Caribou
and Moose deer. There is also, for devotees of the rod, very
fine fishing in some of the picturesque streams.

The branch of the Intercolonial running cast from Truro
passes through one of the most extensive coal-fields of Nova
Scotia. It is said that there are no less than seventy-six fields
of coal, with an aggregate thickness of not less than 14,750 feet.
Stellarton is a populous village, dependent almost entirely on
the coal industry. New Glasgow is an important manufac-
turing and ship-building place, with extensive steel, iron and
glass works. The green hills by which it is surrounded con-
trast pleasantly with its somewhat grimy and smoky streets.

A short run by rail brings one down to Pictou Harbour, on
the opposite side of which, sloping gracefully up from the
water-side, is the old and wealthy town of Pictou, with about
4,000 inhabitants. Pictou has the honour of having given to
Canada two of its most distinguished men — Sir J. W. Dawson,
Principal of McGill University, Montreal, and the Rev. Dr.
Grant, Principal of Queen's University, Kingston.

For a considerable distance east of New Glasgow the country
is monotonous and uninteresting, though the glorious sunlight
glittering on the ever-restless aspens and the lichen-covered
rocks, brightens into beauty, what under a dull sky must be a
sufficiently dreary outlook. At length, in the distance loom up

STRAIT OF CANSEAU.

the twin-towers of a huge cathedral, and the train draws up at
the pretty Catliolic village of Antigonish — the most picturesque
in eastern Nova Scotia. The scene at the station is like a bit
of Lower Canada — two nuns in a caleche, a couple of priests, a
group of seminary students. But the people are Scottish, not
French, Catholics. The cathedral is dedicated to the Scottish
Saint, Ninian, and on the facade is the Gaelic inscription, Tighe
Dhe — " the House of God." The Antigonish mountains, reach-
ing an altitude of a thousand feet, trend off northward in a
bold cape into the Gulf of St. Lawrence. Tracadie is a small
French settlement on the railway, commanding a splendid view
of St. George's Bay and the Gulf. Here is a wealthy monas-
tery, belonging to the Trappists, the most severe of the monastic
orders. The monks, who are mostly from Belgium, add the
business of millers to their more spiritual functions. The
people belong to the old Acadian race, which gave such a
pathetic interest to this whole region.

The railway runs on to the strait of Canseau, amid pic-
turesque mountains, commanding magnificent views over .'.le
Gulf. This strait, the great highway between the Gulf of St.
Lawrence and the North Atlantic Coast, is some fourteen miles
in length and about a mile in width. It is of itself a picture
worth coming far to see, on account of its natural bea 'ty ; but
when on a summer's day hundreds of sail are passing through,
the scene is one to delight an artist's soul. On the Nova Scotia
side the land is high, and affords a glorious view both of the
strait and of the western section of Cape Breton. The pros-
pect both up and down the strait is pleasing in the extreme.
It is traversed, it is claimed, by more keels than any other
strait in the world, except that of Gibraltar. The steam
whistle at its entrance, which is blown constantly in foggy
weather, can be heard with the wind twenty miles, and in calm
weather fifteen miles.

From Port Mulgrave, the railway terminus, small steamers
convey tourists to Port Hood, in Cape Breton, and to the
flourishing town of Guysborough, on the mainland.

BRAS DOR LAKES.

CAPE BRETON.

Before we visit Cape Breton let us glance for a m Dment at
its general characteristics. The island is so named from its
early discoveiy by the mariners of Breton, in France. It is
about one hundred miles long by eighty wide. The Sydney
coal fields are of peculiar richness, and cover 250 square miles.
The magnificent Bras d'Or Lakes are a great inlet of the sea,
ramifying through the centre of the island and bonlered by
bold and majestic hills, rising to, in places, a height of over
1,000 feet. The scenery is of surpassing loveliness. To
thread the intricate navigation by steamer is a delightful
experience.

The Great Bras d'Or is a channel from the sea of nearly
thirty miles — a continuous panorama of bold and majestic
scenery. The Little Bras d'Or is a narrow and river- like
passage through which the tides sweep rapidly, and where
the water-view is sometimes limited to a few score feet, so
tortuous is the channel. The surrounding hills are not more
than five or six hundred feet in height, but their pleasing lines,
and purple shadows, and reposeful beauty delight the eye and
rest the mind. Many of the inhabitants of the island are de-
scendants of the original Acadian settlers, and retain the French
language and the Roman Catholic religion. A larger propor-
tion of the population are of Highland Scottish origin, and
many of them still speak the Gaelic tongue.

The pleasure of visiting this delightful, but comparatively
little known, part of Canada we enjoyed under especially
favourable circumstances. Taking the good steamer Marion
at Port Mulgrave, we sailed down the strait in the brilliant
afternoon sunlight v/hich made the grassy shores gleam like
living emerald. We pa.s.sed through a winding channel., divid-
ing Cape Breton and Isle Madame. The latter was settled
a century ago by Acadian exiles, whose descendants now num-
ber 5,000. They are mostly bold and skilful fishermen. It is
a pleasant sight to see these sturdy fellows haul their boats
ashore, as shown in our engraving. The fishing villages, of
which the stables and out-houses — roofs and all — were white-

ISLE MADAME.

washed, shone like the snowy tents of an army. One sturdy
peasant, who came down with his ox-team to the wharf, might
just have stepped out of a picture by Millet. I was struck
with the lonely little lighthouses which stud the channel, which
seemed the very acme of isolation.

A Fishing Villacie— Capk Breton.

Our steamer passed through the recently constructed St.
Peter's Canal, from the broad Atlantic to the secluded waters
of the Bras d'Or Lake. It was so solitary, so solemn in the
golden glow of sunset, that it seemed as if

" We were the first that ever burst
Into that silent sea."

rN£ ''GOLDEN ARM.""

I will let the facile pen of Charles Dudley Warner describe
the pleasant scene:

" The Bras d'Or is the most beautiful salt-water lake I have ever seen,
and more beautiful than we had imagined a body of salt-water could be.
The water seeks out all the low places, and ramifies the interior, running
away into lovely bays and lagoons, leaving slender tongues of land and
picturesque islands, and bringing into the recesses of the land, to the re-
mote country farms and settlements the flavour of salt, and the fish
and mollusks of the briny sea. It has all the pleasantness of a fresh-
water lake, with all the advantages of a salt one. So indented is it, that I
am not sure but one would need, as we were informed, to ride 1000 miles
to go round it, following all its incursions into the land. The hills around
it are not more than 700 to 800 feet high, but they are high enough for
reposeful beauty, and offer everywhere pleasing lines."

As we sailed on over the enchanted lake the saffron sky
deepened slowly into gold and purple, and at length the
gathering shadows hid the shores from view, except where
the red light of Baddeck glimmered over the wave. I turned
in early, that I might be up by daylight to see the beauty of
the famous "'Golden Arm." With the first dawn I was awake,
and found the steamer threading a channel about a mile wide,
between the lofty St. Anne range and the highlands of Bou-
larderie. The farm-houses and fishermen's cottages seemed
absolutely insignificant beneath the lofty wood-crowned hills
behind them. Presently a lurid sunrise reddened the eastern
skjr and lit up the hill-tops, when I saw what seemed beacon
fires, kindling all along the shore. But I soon found that it
was the reflection of the level rays from the fishermen's win-
dows. So illusory did it seem, that I was almost certain that
they were camp-fires, till I found that they went out as rapidly
as they had been kindled, when the angle of reflection was
passed.

Soon we pass out of the channel into the ocean, exposed to
the broad sweep of the Atlantic, leaving the surf-beaten Bird-
rock, rising abruptly from the waves on the left, while to the
right stretch away the stately mountains of St. Anne's, culmin-
ating in the ever-cloud-capped headland, Smoky Cape. At
length we turn into a wide harbour, where we are told the
mines run far beneath the sea. The steamer stops first at

iJ:;l;i»-

SYDNEY.

North Sydney — a busy coal-shipping port with a marine rail-
way, and the relay station of the American submarine Cable,
where all the ri'iws is transferred to the land- wires. About
thirty or forty operators, I was informed, were employed.

North Sydney, Shii'-Railway.

SYDNEY.

Seven miles further and we reach old Sydney — one of the
most delightfully quaint and curious old-fashioned places to be
found in America. On the high ridge are the remains of the
old Government Building. For be it known, Sydney was once
an independent province with a parliament of its own. But
its ancient grandeur is fading away. The shore is lined with
decaying wharfs, and broken-backed and sagging houses —
which seem as if they would slip into the water — with queer
little windows, and very small panes of glass. I saw at Oxford,
England, an old Saxon church, which looked less ancient than
the Roman Catholic chapel of this town. On the dilapidated '
old court-house was the appropriate motto. Fiat Justitia. But
everything was not old. There were two new churches in
course of erection, a large and imposing academj', elegant
steam-heated houses, and a long and lofty coaling wharf, where
they could load a ship with 300 tons of coal, or 70 cars, in an

QUAINT HOTEL.

hour, and where ocean-going steamers have received cargoes of
3,700 tons.

The hotel at which I stopped was very comfortable, or
would have been so, but for one or two slight drawbacks. A
chimney came up in the middle of my bedroom and took up
nearly all the space ; the water ewer was, I think, the smallest
I ever saw; the door was so warped that it would not shut; the
window was so low that I had to sit on the floor to look out
with comfort ; a pane of glass out, and I could not tell where
the wind came from, and the glass that was in was so twisted
and warped that it distorted everything outside in a very
absurd manner. For instance, a man passinj,' the window, as
seen through one pane, reminded one of Milton's description
of Satan as he sat " squat like a toad close at the ear of Eve."
As he passed the window bar he appeared to shoot up suddenly
into the stature of the tall archangel that erect walked in
Eden. Such glass is apt to be embarrassing ; it is hard to
recognize through it one's most intimate friends. But barring
these slight defects, the house was most comfortable. I was
surprised at the pleasant tinkle of a piano, and I have seldom
eaten more appetising meals, sweeter lamb, or more tender
vegetables ; and for all this the price was exceedingly modest.
Indeed, one of the advantages of touring in Cape Breton is that
one cannot spend very much monej', the prices of everything
are so very moderate. The weather one day happened to be
very wet, and everybody wore water-proof — even the houses
were shingled down their sides. Everywhere were boats, sails,
ropes, and even the out-houses were framed with ship's knees
timber. The hall was lighted from the sky like a ship's cabin ;
and looking seaward we beheld the stately square-rigged ships,
swaying swan-like in the breeze and preening their wings for
their ocean flight. Yet in this out of the way place I found on
the hotel table Principal Tulloch's Movements of Religious
Thought, a book by Dr. McCosh, a large embroidered picture
of the marriage of Mary Queen of Scots, with very wooden or
rather very woollen figures, and a rather florid portrait in oil
of Sir Walter Scott.

We have in Cape Breton a fine example of social stratifica-

GAELIC LANGUAGE.

tion, a Scottish overlying an earlier French civilization. Many
of the older people speak only Gaelic, and the preaching is often
in that language. Among the guests at the hotel were two
brothers, both born on the island, one returning with his wife
from New Zealand — shrewd, keen, enterprising men, yet be-
traying their ancestral Gaelic by an occasional "whatefler"
and " moreolFer." Speaking of the Sunday morning's sermon,
one remarked to the other " Did you no think it the least bit
short, you know ? " — the first time I ever heard that complaint.
Yet out of the great route of travel as Sydney is, I found in
the register the names of travellers from New York, Boston,
Philadelphia, Chicago, Montreal, Ottawa, Toronto, Gait, Berlin,
Nanaimo, B.C. — the latter corae to study coal-mining, I judge.

I was glad to worship with the people called Methodists, and
to give them a few words of friendly greeting, as I had a few
months before greeted the Methodists on the Pacific Coast. I
know no other country in which one may travel 4,000 miles in
a straight line and find everywhere the ministers and members
of the same Church.

On a bright sunny Monday morning, with the Methodist
minister and a couple of good sailors, I went for a sail on the
beautiful Sydney harbour. We sailed and tacked far up
Crawley's Creek, a land-locked inlet of fairy loveliness, and
then returning tacked boldly up the bay against a brisk head-
wind. We raced along through the foaming water which
curled over the combings of the yacht, and every now and then,
with a lurch that brought my heart into my mouth, the yacht
encountered a wave that drenched me with the spray. I sup-
pose it was great fun, but for my part I was very glad to get
once more on terra firma.

I had the pleasure of callin*, before I left, on my friend Dr.
Bourinot, who was on a visit to his ancestral home — the charm-
ing mansion of his father, the late Senator Bourinot, who was
for many years French Consul in the port. The little tree-shaded
dock was kept with real man-of-war neatness. There used to be
almost always a French frigate on the station, and the military
music and stately etiquette gave quite an air of the olden time
to society.

LOU IS BURG

I found also time to vidit the relay house of the French huIh
marine Atlantic Cable. The officer in charge showed nio the
small mirror which is deflected to left or right by the interrup-
tions of an electric current. A beam of light is thrown from a
lamp on this oscillating mirror and thus the thoughts of men
are flashed beneath the sea at the rate of thirty-five words a
minute. It is very harrl to watch .steadily this beam of light.
If one even winks he may lose a word or two. The 'ear can
follow .sound better than the eye the light ; therefore this gen-
tleman is trying, with good promise of success, to u.se a "sounder"
instead of the mirror.

LOUISBURQ.

It wa.s a great disappointment that I was not able to visit
the old fortress of Louisburg. But the railway had ceased
to run trains, and in consequence of heavy rains the coach-
road was in a very bad condition. Our engraving, however,
accurately portrays the most salient feature that is left of the
most famous fortress in America. This once proud stronghold
is now a small hamlet of fishermen, who reap the harvest of
the sea on the stormy banks of Newfoundland. The construc-
tion of the " Dunkirk of Avnerica," as it was proudly called,
was begun by the French in 1720. During twenty years they
spent upon it 30,000,000 livres. It became a rendezvous of
privateers, who preyed upon the commerce of New England,
and was a standing menace to che British possessions. In
1744, Governor Shirley, of Massaclui setts, determined on its
capture. Four thousand colonii>l iiulitia were collected, and
William Pepperel, a merchant and miU^ia colonel of Maine, took
command.

The celebrated George Whitefield,, the eloquent Methodist
preacher, who was then in New England, was asked to furnish
a motto for the regimental flag, and gave the incription,
"Nil desperandum, Christo duce." Indeed, in the eyes of
the more zealous Puritans, the expedition possessed quite the
character of a crusade against the image-worship of the Catholic
faith.

On the 29th of April, 1745, a hundred vessels, large and small.

:i!!!iii';

Ai\D ITS MEMORIES,

among them a few ships of the royal navy, under Commodore
Warren, havin<^ been detained many days by tlie thiek-ril)l)ed
ice ort" Canseau, sailed into the capacious harbour of Louis-
bur<'. Tltis was one of tlio stronj^est fortresses in the worUl.
It was surrounded by a wall forty feet thick at the base, and
from twenty to thirty feet hifrh, and by a ditch eijjhty feet
wide. It mounted nearly two hundred <5uns, and had a gar-
rison of sixteen hundred men. The assailants had only eigh-

'::m^H^

^■•M.

•

iiw_;.

t ^^'

It- ■ .■' .'-^ ■

Ruins of Lopisburo.

k.^.-.-fti "^ji/gi •'-V.sf- i.i, ,, •;...^T%".

hodist
urnish
iption,
yres of
te the
tholic

teen cannon and three mortars. With a rush they charged
through the surf, and repulsed the French who lined the steep
and rugged shore. Dragging their guns through a marsh on
sledges, the English gained the rear ; the French in a panic
abandoned an outwork, spiking their cannon.

On the 21st of May trenches were opened; on the IGth of
June, Duchambon, the commandant, despairing of a successful
resistance, capitulated, and the New England militia marched
into the works. As they beheld their extent, they exclaimed

CAPTURE AND

" God alone has delivered this stronghold into our hand," and a
sermon of thanksgiving was preached in the French chapel.
A troop-ship with four hundred men and two valuable East
India-men were captured in the harbour. The garrison and
the inhabitants of the town, over four thousand in all, were
conveyed to Brest. The fall of the strongest fortress in America
before a little army of New England farmers and fishermen
caused the wildest delight at Boston and the deepest chagrin
at Versailles.

In 1755 it was again takon by the British. Early in June,
Admiral Boscawen, with thirty-seven ships of war, and one
hundred and twenty transports conveying 1 2,000 troops, ap-
peared off the harbour. For six days a rough sea, dashing in
heavy breakers on the iron coast, prevented debarkation, the
French meanwhile actively throwing up earthworks all along
the shore. Early on the seventh day, Wolfe, with a strong
force, gallantly landed through the surf, and seized the out-
works of the fort. The siege was vigorously pressed by day
and night for seven weeks. Madame Drucourt, the wife of
the Governor, inspired the garrison by her heroism. During
the bombardment, she often appeared among the soldiers on
the ramparts, and even fired the great guns, and encouraged
with rewards the most expert artillery men. With her own
hands, she dressed the wounds of the injured, and by the ex-
hibition of her own courage enbraved the hearts of the de-
fenders of the fort. Every effort, however, was in vain. The
walls crumbled rapidly under the heavy fire of the besiegers.
The resistance was brave but ineffectual. With all but two of
their vessels burned, captured or sunk, and when town and
fortress were well nigh demolished by shot and shell, Louisburg
capitulated. Its inhabitants were conveyed to France, and the
garrison and sailors, over five thousand in number, were sent
prisoners to England.*

As Halifax was a good naval station and well fortified, " it
was deemed inexpedient to maintain a costly garrison at Louis-
burg ; so sappers and miners were sent there in the summer of
1760, and in the short space of six months all the fortifications

♦Withrow's History of Canada, p. 222,

DESTRUCTION OF LOUISBURG.

!;■. -''.d

r own

and public buildings, which had cost France twenty-five years
of labour and a vast amount of money, were utterly demolished,
—the walls and glacis levelled into the ditch, — leaving, in fact,
nothing to mark their former situation but heaps of stones and
rubbish. All the artillery, ammunition, stores, implements, —
in short, everything of the slightest value, even 'he hewn stones
which had decorated the public buildings, were transported to
Halifax."

The fortress, constructed at such cost and assailed and de-
fended with such valour, thus fell into utter ruin. Where giant
navies rode and earth-shaking war achieved such vast exploits,
to-day the peaceful waters of the placid bay kiss the deserted
strand, and a small fishing hamlet and a few mouldering ruin-
mounds mark the grave of so much military pomp, and power,
and glor)'.

The project of making Louisburg the terminus of the Cana-
dian trans-continental railway system, the Cape Breton section
of which is now under construction, promises to restore much
of its former importance to this historic spot. It will shorten
the ocean travel to Europe by about a thousand miles, a con-
sideration of much importance in these days of rapid transit.

In retracing my way through the Big Bras d'Or, I had,
through the courtesy of Captain Burciisli, the opportunity of
studying the striking scenery from the elevated pilot-house.
The twilight shadows of deeper and deeper purple filled the
glens and mantled over the broad slopes till it became too dark
to See, and I turned to the less esthetic, but moi*^ practical,
rites of the supper-table. Here let me conin^end Steward
Mitchell, of the Marion, as one of the host of caterers. His
broiled mackerel were really a work of art. The steamer was
crowded, no berths were to be had, so the steward made up a
cot in the cabin and tucked me in my little bed just beroiO we
reached Baddeck. But the deck passengers were very noisy, and
I found it impossible to sleep — we had a lot of Italian railway
navvies, and Indians with their squaws — the latter carrying
bundles of birch bark to build their next wigwam. So I went
ashore at Baddeck and stopped over for the next boat. Every-
body in the town seemed to have come down to meet us by

BAD DECK.

lan^.plight. Baddeck (accent on the second syllable) has become
quite classical in its way since Charles Dudley Warner made
his famous pilgrimage hither : " Having attributed the quiet
of Baddeck on Sunday to religion," he says, " we did not know
to what to lay the quiet on Monday. But its peacefulness con-
tinued. Mere living is a kind of happiness, and the easy-going
traveller is satisfied with little to do and less to see."

But I found a good deal to see. The Dominion Customs
House and Post Office is one of the most elegant "Queen Anne"
structures I have anywhere seen. I visited the quaint old jail —
a low log building, more like a country school-house than any-
thing else but for the iron gratings on each window. The cells
were not cells, but good-sized rooms with a fire-place and wide
bed in each. A prisoner was lookin;^ cheerfully out of the
front window, taking advantage of the unwonted stir in tV :;
little town — for it was co\irt-day. To the court, therefore, I
went and found that I formed one-ninth of its constitution —
the others being the judge, clerk, tipstaff, defendant, lawyer,
and three spectators.

It was not very lively, so I went to visit the Indian village.
This I found much more interesting. The Indians were Mic-
macs, who are said to be of purer blood than any other tribe on
the Atlantic Coast. I visited several wigwams, but found their
inmates rather stolid and uncommunicative. One thing they
had of much interest. In several cases I got them to turn out
from their li+tle boxes in wMch they kept their few belong-
ings, their prayer-book and catechism, printed in arbitrary
characters invented for them by the Trappist monks. The
characters resemble a mixture of Greek and Russian with soni
cursive letters ; not nearly so simple as the Cree characters, in-
vented by the Rev. James Evans. The Indians could repd them
quite readily, especially the women ; but although they spoke
English fairly, they said they could not translate what they
read. The books were printed, as the German title page an-
nounced, at the Imperial printing establishment, in the Imperial
city of Vienna — in der Kaiserlichen stadt Wein in Oesterreich,
There was also a quaint picture of Christ — "the Way the
Truth, the Life" — Der Weg, die Wuhrheit, daa Leben. Their

WH YCOCOMA GH.

religious training did not seem to have done much for the
civilization of these Indians, for they were squalid and filthy
in the extreme. Yet it is said, that once a year they all meet
at an appointed rende-^ous, and all the marriages and christen-
ings and other religious rites for the year are duly performed.
In the afternoon, on a tiny steamer, I sailed twenty miles up
the winding St. Patrick's Channel, to Whycocomagh. Mr.
Warner went by stage, and thus describes his adventures :

" Now we were two hundred feet above the water, on the hill-side skirt-
ing a point or following an indentjition ; and now we were diving into a
narrow valley, crossing a stream, or turning a sharp corner, but always
with the Bras d'Or in view, the afternoon sun shining on it, softening the
outlines of its embracing hills, casting a shadow from its wt)()ded islands.
The reader can conipaie the view an<' the ride to the Bay oi Najdes and
the Cornice Road ; we did nothir.g of the sort ; we held on to the seat,
prayed that the harness of the pony might not break, and ga\e constant
exi^ressibn to our wonder and delight."

It was a lovely sail between wooded heights, at the nari'ows
approaching so close that one could "toss a biscuit asliore."
When we got to the very end of the channel, what was my
surprise to see a good-sized vessel loading with cattle and .sheep
for St. John's, Newfoundland. Near the landing is a very tine
hill of rugged outline, some 800 feet high — Salt Mountain.
To this I betook me, and lounging on a couch of soft moss and
gr.i-ss, basking in the sunlight, enjoyed one of the grandest,
I •o'?)ocvS in the maritime provinces. The Great Bras d'Or Lake
AT V ,• v)rt id like a map beneath, an occasional vessel winging its
w^ay 1 ;ro.ss the placid surface; at my feet the little hamlet,
and wiiiaing afar amid the hills the ribbon-like coach-road
to Mabou and Port Hood. "This," I thcught, "is one of the
most sequ'.'stered spots in the Dominion." J had seldom felt so
isolated from every one I had ever kiiown. At this moment
I saw creeping over the brow of t!;v; hill a group of climbers,
the more adventurous spirits of a Sunday-.school picnic ; and
^he leader of the band was a fellow-townsman of my own, a
'•'ung Congregational minister then in charge of the church at
!...J|.ck.

Not without an effort I tore myself away from the glorioua

AN 'ULTIMA THULE}

view, as the sun gave his good-night kiss to the mountain's
brow, and made my way to the little village. To our mutual
surprise I was met by Stewart Mitchell, who the night before
had put me in my cot on the steamer Marion, and thought I
must be by this time two hundred miles away. His wife kept the
inn and he was home on a visit, and soon gave fresh evidence
of his culinary skill. In few places can a man, at the proper
season, do his marketing so easily as mine host can here. He
can go to the garden foot and gather a pailful of oysters, which
he fattens with oatmeal thrown upon the still water. He can
step into his boat and drop a line, and draw in the finest salmon.
He can stop on Li t- home, and gather ripe strawberries and
fresh vegetables tiv is garden — and this in daily view of
some of the loveliest scenery in the world.

I had enjoyed
my mountain-
climb so much that
I repeated it next
day ; but under
the noon-day glare
the prospect was
not nearly so oeau-
tiful as in the soft
afternoon light. A
row boat crossing
the harbour look-
ed in the distance
like one of those
water ants we of-
ten see. It was
very curious to
watch through a glass the steamer emerging out of space and
approaching the very mountain's base. I learned afterwards
that I was the subject of a discussion on board, as to whether
I was a sheep or a goat. When I rose from my mossy couch
and waved my handkerchief I suppose they decided that I was
neither.

Captain Burchell brought up his horse and carriage on the

:'.m/ii\,,/(. A, n

Pbimitive Post Offick, Cape Breton.

PORT MULGRA v£.

steamer — as is often done in this primitive country — to give his
wife a drive over the mountains. He is a good example of a
Nova Scotian globe-trotter — or rather sea-farer. There are not,
I suppose, many great ports in the world which he has not
visited. He took his wife — a captain's daughter of Yarmouth,
N.S. — on a wedding trip from Bangor, Wales, to Singapore.
She has travelled farther and seen more than most ladies.

I took a charming five-miles walk out of Baddeck to climb
a lofty hill. The struggle between mountain glory and moun-
tain gloom, as a strong east wind rolled heavy masses of cloud
over the sun-lit landscape, was very impressive. The houses
seemed a spectral white against the sombre sky. I entered a
peasant's log-house for a glass of m'^^- ; the meagre furniture
was very primitive — a few home-maut benches and a cradle,
with a fire-place and a few iron and earthen pots. A kindly
Scotch lad gave me a ride in his waggon, and asked if I were
going to the "Sacrament," an ordinance soon to be administered,
which was awakening deep interest far and wide. Prof. Bell, the
American patentee of the telephone, has here an elegant villa.

That night I had the captain's cabin all to myself on the
MaHon, and next day arrived again at Port Mulgrave in a
steady rain that dimmed and blurred, past recognition, the glori-
ous landscape through which I had passed a few days before.
It did not depress the spirits, however, of a merry party of
American tourists homeward-bound. As one of them unfolded
his voluminous ticket with attached coupons, he congratulated
himself on the large amount of reading matter for the trip
which was thrown in free. Theii- witty talk kept the car full
of people in good humour, despite the dismal weather.

■^v

EVjfNGELINKS COUNTRY.

Evangeline's country.

The road from Halifax to Windsor does not. to put it mildly,
take one through the finest part of Nova Scotia. I crossed the
country thirty years ago on one of the first trains that ran over
the newly opened railway, and anything wilder or more rugged
than the country through which we passed it would be hard to
imagine. Even now it is sufficiently rough, and if, as Dudley
Warner remarks, a man can live on rocks like a goat, it will
furnish a good living. Some pretty lakes, and pleasant valleys
and hamlets, relieve the monotony of the journey.

The old university town of Windsor, situated at the junction
of the Avon and the St. Croix, presents many attractive
features. If the tpurist arrives at low tide, he will agree with
the witty American writer who, with a pardonable vein of
exaggeration, says : " The Avon would have been a charming
stream, if there had been a drop of water in it ... I should
think that it would be confusing to dwell by a river that runs
first one way and then another, and then vanishes altogether."

When the tide is up, however, the Avon is a very respectable-
sized stream, and the view, from the hill crowned with the old
block-houses and earth-works of Fort Edward, of the widening
river and distant basi^i of Minas, is very attractive ; but when
the tide is out, the banks of mud are stupendous. The two
places which the present writer sought out with especial
interest were the old-fashioned house of the witty Judge
Haliburton, author of " Sam Slick," and the plain buildings of
King's College, the oldest college in the Dominion, founded in
1787. The gypsum quarries are of much interest, and large
quantities of plaster of paris are exported.

We are now approaching the region invested with undying
interest by Longfellow's pathetic poem, " Evangeline."

The Acadian peasants, on the beautiful shores of the Bay of
Fundy, were a simple, virtuous, and prosperous community.
Their civil disputes, when any arose, which was rare, were all
settled by the kindly intervention of their priest, who also
made their wills and drew up their public acts. If wealth was
rare, poverty was unknown; for a feeling of brotherhood
anticipated the claims of want. Domestic happiness and public

PRIESTS AND MIC MACS.

Judge

large

Bay of
unity,
ere all
o also
ih was
erhood
public

morality were fostered by early marriages ; and homely thrift
was rewarded by almost universal comfort. Such is the
delightful picture painted by the sympathetic pen of the Abbd
Raynal, — a picture that almost recalls the innocence and
happiness of the poets' fabled Golden Age.

With remarkable industry the Acadians reclaimed from the sea
by dikes many thousands of fertile acres, which produced
aijundant crops of grain and orchard fruits ; and on the sea
meadows, at one time, grazed as many as sixty thousand head
of cattle. The simple wants of the peasants were supplied by
domestic manufactures of wool or flax, or by importations from
Louisburg. So great was their attachment to the government
and institutions of their fatherland, that during the aggressions
of the English after their conquest of the country, a great part
of the population — some ten thousand, it has been said, although
the number is disputed — abandoned their homes and migrated
to that portion of Acadia still claimed by the French, or to
Cape Breton or Canada. Some seven thousand still remained
in the peninsula of Nova Scotia, but they claimed a political
neutrality, resolutely refusing to take the oath of allegiance to
the alien conquerors. "Better," said the priests to their
obedient flock, " surrender your meadows to the sea, and your
houses to the flames, than peril your souls by taking that
obnoxious oath." They were accused, and probably with only
too good reason, of intrigbing with their countrymen at
Louisburg, with resisting the English authority, and with
inciting and even leading the Indians to ravage the English
settlements.

The cruel Micmacs needed little instigation. They swooped
down on the little town of Dartmouth, opposite Halifax, and
within gun-shot of its forts, and reaped a rich harvest of
scalps and booty. The English prisoners they sometimes sold
at Louisburg for arms and ammunition. The Governor
asserted that pure compassion was the motive of this traffic, in
order to rescue the captives from massacre. He demanded,
however, an excessive ransom for their liberation. The Indians
were sometimes, or indeed generally it was asserted, led in
these murderous raids by French commanders. These violations

EXPULSION OF THE ACADIANS.

i 4

of neutrality, however, were chiefly the work of a few turbulent
spirits. The moss of the Acadian peasants seem to have been
a peaceful and inoffensive people, although they naturally
sympathized with their countrymen. They were, however,
declared rebels and outlaws, and a council at Halifax, con-
founding the innocent with the guilty, decreed the expulsion of
the entire French population.

The decision was promptly carried out. Ships soon appeared
before the principal settlements in the Bay of Fundy. All the

Expulsion ;f the Acadians.

male inhabitants, over ten years of age, were summoned to
hear the King's command. At Grand Pr^, fcur hundred
assembled in the village church, when the British officer read
from the altar the decree of their exile. Resistance was im-
possible , armed soldiers guarded the door, and the men were
encaged in prison. On the fifth day they were marched at the
bayonet's point, amid the wailings of their relatives, on board
the transports. The women and children were shipped ir other
vessels. Families were scattered ; husbands and wives sepa-
rated— many never to meet again. It was three months later.

GRAND PRE.

kthe
f)oard
)ther

'■"is

in the bleak December, before the last were removed.
Hundreds of comfortable homesteads and well-filled barns were
ruthlessly given to the flames. A number, variously estimated
at from three to seven thousand, were dispersed along the
Atlantic seaboard from Maine to Georgia. Twelve hundred
were carried to South Carolina. A few planted a new Acadia
among their countrymen in Louisiana. Some tried to return to
their blackened hearths, coasting in open boats along the shore.
These were relentlessly intercepted when possible, and sent back
into hopeless exile. It is a page in our country's annals that is not
pleasant to contemplate, but we may not ignore the painful
facts. Every patriot must regret the stem military necessity
— if necessity there were — that compelled the inconceivable
suffering of so many innocent beings.*

The following pathetic lines describe the idyllic community,
and the consummation of this tragical event :

In Acadian land, on the shores of the basin of ^linas,
Distant, secluded, still, the little village of Grand-Pre
Lay in the fruitful valley. Vast meadows stretched to the eastward,
Giving the village its name, and pasture to flocks without number.
Dikes, that the hands of the farmers had raised with labour incessant,
Shut out the turbulent tides ; but at stated seasons the floodgates
Opened, and welcomed the sea to wander at will o'er the meadows.
West and south there were fields of flax, and orchards and cornfields
Spreading afar and unfenced o'er the plain, and away to the northward
Blomidon rose, and the forests old, and aloft on the mountains
Sea-fogs pitched their tents, and mists from the mighty Atlantic
Looked on the happy valley, but ne'er from their station descended.

There, in the midst of its farms, reposed the Acadian village.
Strongly-built were the houses, with frames of oak and of chestnut,
Such as the peasants of Normandy built in the reign of the Henries.
Thatched were the roofs, with dormer-windows; and gables projecting
Over the basement below protected and shaded the doorway.
There, in the tranquil evenings of summer, when brightly the sunset
Lighted the village street, and gilded the vanes on the chinineys,
Matrons and maidens sat in snow-white caps and in kirtlcs
Scarlet and blue and green, with distaffs spinning the golden
Flax for the gossiping looms, whose noisy shuttles within doors
Mingled their sound with the whir of the wheels and the songs of the
maidens.

* Withrow's History of Canada, p. 207.

GRAND PRE.

1j 1 M

IIS'

lll-iill

Solemnly down tho street cjinie the piirisli priest, and the children
Paused in their play to kiss the hand he extended to bless them.
Reverend walked he among them ; and up rose matrons and maidens,
Hailing his slow approach with words of affectionate welcome.
Then came the labourers homo from the field, and serenely the sun sank
Down to his rest, and twilight prevailed. Anon from the belfry
Softly tho Angelus sounded, and over the roofs of the village
Colunuis of pale blue smoke, like clouds of incense ascending.
Rose from a hundred hearths, the homes of peace and contentment.

Tlius dwelt together in love these simple Acadian farmers, —
Dwelt in tho love of God and of man. Alike were they free from
Fear, that reigns with the tyrant, and envy, the vice of republics.
Neither locks had they to their doors, nor bars to their windows ;
But their dwellings were open as day and the hearts of the owners ;
There the richest was poor, and the poorest lived in abundance.

Many a weary year had passed since the burning of Grand-Pre,
When on the falling tide the freighted vessels departed.
Bearing a nation, with all its household goods, into exile,
Exile without an end, and without an example in story.

Far asunder, on separate coasts, the Acadians landed ;
Scattered were they, like flakes of snow, when the wind from the

north-east
Strikes aslant through the fogs that darken the banks of Newfoundland.
Friendless, homeless, hopeless, they wandered from city to city.
From the cold lakes of the North to the sultry Southern savannas, —
From the bleak shores of the sea to the lands where the Father of waters
Seizes the hills in his hands, and drags them down to the ocean.
Deep in their sands to bury the scattered bones of the mammoth.
Friends they sought and homes ; and many despairing, heart-broken,
Asked of the earth but a grave, and no longer a friend nor a fireside.
Written their history stands on tablets of stone in the churchj'ards.

The Horton Railway Station is quite close to the site of the
old Acadian settlement. The scene is peculiarly impressive,
and not without a tinge of sadness. In front stretch the vast
diked meadows, through which winds in many a curve the
sluggish Gaspereaux. In the distance are seen the dark basaltic
cliffs of Cape Blomidon, rising to the height of five hundred and
seventy feet. In the foreground to the left, near a large willow
tree, are shown remains of the foundation of the old Acadian
church. A gentleman, living in Horton, informed me that there
were in the neighbourhood the traces of forty cellars of the

GRAND PRE.

4»

Acadian people, also of an old mill, and old wells. A long row
of ancient willows shows the line of the old road. Now, my
informant assured me, there is not a single Frenchman in the
whole county.

:\ <

m'''

K-iitii- "■■'■■■ *WMi," '

The Acadians reclaimed the fertile marsh lands from the sweep
of the tides, by constructing dikes with much labour by means of
wattled stakes and earthen embankments. There were more
than two thousand acres of this reclaimed meadow at Grand
Fr^ and much more at other places. These areas have been much

GRAND PRE.

extended from time to time, they form an inexhaustibly fertile
pasture and meadow land.

Mrs. Sarah D. Clark's musical verses, which follow, aum up
skilfully the touching associations of Grand Pr^ :

Grtind Pr^ ! whuso level inomluwH strutcli awiiy,
Fur up the deep-cut dikes thy waves roll on,

Free, as a hundred years ago to-day,
They climb the slopes of rocky Blomidon.

These lonely i)Oi)lars, reared by sons of toil,

Look out like exiles o'er a foreign sea,
Their haggard fronts grown gmy on alien soil,

Far from the i)rovince of fair Lombardy.

Long-vanished forms come thronging up the strand ;

I close my eyes to see the vision pass,
As one shuts out the daylight with his hand.

To view the pictures in a magic glass.

This is the little village famed of yore,

With meadows rich in flocks and plenteous grain,

Whose peasants knelt beside each vine-clad door,
As the sweet Angelus rose o'er the plain.

High-hearted, brave, of gentle Norman blood.
Their thrifty life a prospering fame did bring ;

They held the reins o'er peaceful field and flood,
Lords of their lands, and rivals of a king.

By kingly rule, an exile's lot they bore,
The poet's song reclaims their scattered fold ;

Blown in melodious notes to every shore,
The story of their mournful fate is told.

And to their annals linked while time shall last,
Two lovers from a shadowy realm are seen,

A fair, immortal picture of the past,
The forms of Gabriel and Evangeline.

And hither shall that sweet remembi-ance bring
Full many a pilgrim as the years roll on

While the lone bittern pauses on the wing,
Above the crest of rocky Blomidon.

Still over wave and meadow smile the day,
The twilight deepens, and the time is brief,

I bid farewell to beautiful Grand Pr^,
While yet on summer's heart bloom flower and leaf

^12 1

WOLFVILLE.

I could not help being struck with the photographic fidelity
with which Longfellow describes the country. The long beard-
like nioHs on the pines suggests exactly the simile employed in
the followin<{ lines :

This ia the fcirest priinoval. The munmiring pines ftnd the hemlocks,
Boarded witli moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twiliglit,
SUuid like Druids of old, with voices sad and prophetic,
Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighbouring ocean
Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest.

Three miles from Horton is the charming collegiate town of
Wolfville. Here I was most kindly met by Mr. J. W. Caldwell,
a gentleman who knew me only by report. Learning that
I was passing through the town, he intercepted me at the
station, insisted that I should stop over, carried m off' to his
house and showed me no end of kindness — a thorough speci-
men of Nova Scotia hospitality. From the roof of Acadia Col-
lege, a flourishing Baptist institution, beautifully situated, I
enjoyed a magnificent view over the storied scene which Long-
fellow has made " more sadly poetical than any other spot on
the western continent." My friend had apprised the Rev. Mr.
Friggens, the junior Methodist preacher on the Circuit, of my
expected arrival, and after dinner there he was with his horse
and carriage to give me a drive up the famous Gaspereaux
Valley and on to Horton and Grand Pr^. And a magnificent
drive it was. I have seen few things finer in my life than the
view from the lofty hill surmounting the valley, sweeping up and
down its winding slopes many a mile. We stopped for an hour
at Horton parsonage, the successor of a previous one on the
same site in which the Rev. Dr. Pope, the distinguished theolo-
gian was born. No one but a travelling Methodist preacher, I
think, could be made the recipient of so many kindnesses as
fell to mv lot.

Proceeding westward, the railway passes through the pictur-
esque Comwallis Valley, in frequent view of the dike-bordered
Cornwallis River. Kentville, the railway headquarters, is a pisas-
ant and thriving town. We are now entering what is known as
" the Garden of Nova Scotia" — the far-famed Annapolis valley.

ANNAPOLIS.

It is a magnificent fanning region, especially adapted to the
growth of apples. It has been said that for fifty miles one may
drive through an almost continuous orchard.

ANNAPOLIS.

The town pf Annapolis, cr Annapolis Royal, to give it its
complete name, is full of historical interest. Save St. Augus-
tine, in Florida, it was the earliest permanent European settle-
ment in the New World. Its early history reads like a
romance. It was first colonized oy Baron Poutrincourt, in
1605. In 1628 it wpj captured by the British, aftervvr.rd sur-
rendered to the French, again captured by Sir William Phips,
and again surrendered. It was captured for the last time by the
Bi'itish in 1710, and ever since the Red Cross flag has waved
above the noble harbour, then named, in honour of the reign-
ing sovereign, Annapolis.

The point of central interest, in the ancient and historic
town of Annapolis, to which the tourist first makes
his wny, is the old dismantled fort. It is at the very
w^ater's edge and covers with its x'amparts and outworks
an area of twenty-eight acres. The extensive earthworks —
ramparts and curtains, bastions and demilunes — are softly
rounded by the gentle ministries of nature, and are covered
with turf of softest texture and greenest hue. An inner
fort, entered by an arched stone gateway, contains an ample
parade ground. At one side are built the quaint old English
woodeu baii/acks, still in good condition. They are sr.ru).ounted
by a steep wooden rojf with great chimney stacks. It is quite
unique among structures oi the kind in that, while containing
tiiiity-six rooms, each room, is the young girl who acted a^. my
guide informed mo,has a separate fireplace. In one of the bastions
is the magazine, with a vaulted roof of Caen stone, the keystone
bearini; the date 1707 — three years before its final capture by
the British. Near by are the ruins of the earlier French bar-
racks. An arched passage, now fallen in, led down to the old
French wharf, which is now a crumbling mass of blackened
stones mantled thickly with sea-weed.

The view from the north-west bastion is very beautiful, in-

MEMORIES OF PORT ROYAL.

eluding the far-shining Annapolis basin amid its environment
of forest-clad hills, and the twin villages of Annapolis
and Granville Ferry. In the distance to the left is seen a long,
low, rambling farm-house, nearly two hundred years old, the
only one now remaining of the old French settlement. As I
looked upon the pleasant scene, I could not help thinking of the
time, well-nigh three hundred years ago, when De Monts and his
sturdy band of French pioneers first sailed up the lonely waters
of that placid bay and planted their little fort, the only habi-
tation of civilized men, on the outermost fringe of the vast

Ancient Archway, in oi.i> Fort, Annapolis.

wilderness stretching from Florida to the North Pole. Then
came memories of the poet pioneer, Lescarbot, fresh from the
gay salons of Paris, cheering the solitude of thi long and
dreary winters with his classic masques and pageant -, and organ-
izing " L'Ordre de Bon Temps " for festivity and good fellow-
ship, holding their daily banquets with feudal state around
their blazing fires. It wjis a strange picture, especially in
view of the subsequent suffering, disappointment and wrong
which visited the hapless colony. For Port Royal was the grave
of many hopes, and its early history was a perfect Iliad
of disaster. Strange that when there were only two or
three scattered groups of Spanish, French and English settlers

" THE SPANISH LADY.''

on the whole continent, each of which could scarce hold the
ground which it possessed, they could not desist from attack-
ing each other's settlements. In those early raids were begun
those long and bloody wars which afterwards devastated the
whole continent.

Before I came away I took a long draught from the cool
well, which had quenched the thirst of so many generations of
men. Then I turned into the quiet God's acre where " the
peaceful fathers of the hamlet sleep." Amid the tangled grass
and briars I tried to decipher some of the later inscriptions. I
noticed one of date 1763, and another of John Bernard Gilpin,
Esq., who died 1811, aged ninety-eight, also the epitaphs of his
son and grandson. Their crest was a very curious one — a boar,
with the legend "Dictis factisque simplex." On one lichen-
stained stone I I'ead this touching avowal of faith — "which
promise He for His part will most surely keep and perform."
Another stone bears this inscription, verbatim et literatim :

Stay friend stay nor let they bait prophane '
The humble Stone that tells you life is vain.
Here lyes a youth in mouldering ruin lost
A blofsom nipt by Death's unkindly frost.
O then prepare to meet with him above
In realms of everlasting love.

My attention was called to the grave of "the Spanish lady"— ^
Gregoria Remonia Antonia — who lives in local legend as a
light-of-love companion of the Duke of Wellington. When
the Iron Duke wished to sever the unblessed connection, says
the legend, she was sent to Annapolis, under military protec-
tion, and gnawed her heart out in this solitude. The tree-
shaded streets and the quaint old-fashioned houses and gardens
give the village a very sedate and reposeful look.

In the late afternoon I crossed in a row-boat to the Granville
side of the river, to climb the inviting-looking North Mountain.
It was surprising how fast the tide flowed up the long sloping
wharf at which I embarked. The view from the mountain
well repaid the climb. For miles and miles the Annapolis
basin and valley lay spread out like a map, showing, near by,
the meadows where the French flrst reaped their meagre crops

PORT ROYAL.

of wheat. The windows, miles away, flashed like living car-
buncles in the level rays of the setting sun, then the purple
shadows filled the valley, and in the fading light the little
steamer came creeping slowly up the bay. On my way down
I met an ox-team conveying a fishing boat many miles over the
mountain, in a most primitive manner. I recrossed the ferry
by starlight and saw great Orion hunting his prey forever
through the sky, and I thought

*' How often, O how often,
In the years that have gone by,"

the vanished generations had watched the sun set on sea and
shore, and had seen the stars shine on unchanged amid all
time's changefulness.

The following verses, by James Hannay, written ten years
ago, finely embody the stirring memories of Port Royal :

Fair is Port Royal river in the Acadian land ;
It Hows through vci"dant meadows, widespread on either hand ;
Through orchards and through comtields it gayly liolds its way.
And past the ancient ramparts, long fallen to decay.

Peace reigns within the valley, peace on the mountain 'de,
In liamlet and in cottjvge, and on Port Koyal's tide ;
In peace tlie ruddy farmer reaps from its fertile tields ;
In peace the lisher gathers the spoils its basin yields.

Yet this sweet vale has eclioed to many a warlike note ;
The strife-compelling bugle, the cannon's iron throat,
The wall-piece, and the musket have joined in chorus there.
To till v.ith horrid clangor the balmy morning air.

And many a galland war-fieet has, in the days gone by,
L)iin in that noble basin, and tiouted in the sky
A Hag witli haughty cliallenge to the now ruined hold,
Which reared its lofty ramparts in wai'like days of old.

And in the early springtime, when farmers plough their fields.
Full many a warlike weapon the peaceful furrow yields ;
The balls t)f mighty cjinnon crop from the fruitfql soil.
And many a rusted sword-blade, once red with martial toil.

Three hundred years save thirty have been and passed away
Since bold Champlain was wafted to fair Port lluyal Bay ;

THE BA Y OF FUND V.

And there he built ft fortress, with palisadoes tall,

Well flanked by many a bastion, to guard its outward wall.

Here w.:3 the germ of Empire, the cradle of a state.
In future ages destined to stand among the great ;
Then hail to old Port lloyal ! although her ramparts fall,
Canadian towns shaU greet her the mother of them all.

ill

In the Bay of Fundt.

THE ATLANTIC COAST.

From Annapolis one may sail direct to Boston or he may take
the steamer acrdss the Bay of Fundy to St. John. The most con-
spicuous features in sailing down the basin are the fishing
hamlets, each with its little wharf which at low tide seems to
be stranded high and dry far from the water's edge, and an occa-
sional tide mill. From this basin come those toothsome her-
rings known throughout the world as " Digby chickens." At
Digby, near the entrance to the basin, the huge wharf was so
out of repair that we had to drop anchor and transfer our
passengers to a scow — a work of no small difficulty in the tur-
bulent waves made by the meeting of the wind and tide. While
all was bright and sunny in the basin, the cold and clammy sea
fog lay in wait without, to wrap us in its damp embrace. I
once sailed from St. John to Windsor in so dense a fog that when
land loomed high and threatening through it the captain had
to send a boat ashore to find out where we were ; and all the
time the swirling tides were making eddies in the water which
threatened to drift us upon the rocks. Our engraving shows the
character of the bold and rugged scenery of the tide-swept bay.

THE ATLANTIC COAST.

From Digby, with its houses scattered over the windy downs,
like a flock of frightened sheep, one may go by rail to Yar-
mouth, the extreme south-west point of Nova Scotia. My own
visit to Yarmouth was made by steamer from Halifax. It was
an experience never to be forgotten. The route follows an
iron-bound coast of bold and rugged front, which has been the
scene of numerous shipwrecks. The deep fiords, rocky ledges
and unending pine forests resemble the coast of Norway, but
without the mountain heights. In the beautiful Mahone Bay
is the quaint German town of Lunenburg, settled a hundred and
forty years ago by German religious refugees. They still
retain their German language and customs and Lutheran mode
of worship. They have adopted the thrifty Nova Scotia prac-
tice of seafaring, and carry on a lucrative trade with the West
Indies. Liverpool is another thriving town of over three
thousand inhabitants. Shelboume, an active ship-building town,
has a romantic history. At the close of the revolutionary war

FOG BOUND.

in 1783, a large number of U. E. Loyalist refugees from the
United States settled here, with the hope of creating a great
city on this magnificent harbour. Within a year the popula-
tion numbered twelve thousand, of whom twelve hundred were
Negro slaves. It quite ran ahead of Halifax, and it was
seriously proposed to remove thither the seat of Government.
But it was soon found that there was no back country to sup-
port the town, and the high-toned inhabitants would not engage
in the fisheries. So, after $2,500,000 was expended in two years,
the attempt was abandoned and the population soon dwindled
to about four hundred.

We next pass Port La Tour, with its heroic memories of
Madame La Tour. Cape Sable, at the extreme southern angle
of the peninsula, is the terror of the mariners. Here the S. S.
HungaHan was wrecked with great loss of life. Rounding
this angle and passing Barrington Bay, the steamer in fair
weather can thread the kaleidoscopic mazes of the Tusket
Islands. These, while having almost the intricacy of the
Thousand Islands of the St. Lawrence, lie quite out at sea,
and through them sweep the swift and swirling tides. On
the occasion of my own visit to Yarmouth the weather was
dismally foggy, we therefore had to give those dangerous
islands a wide berth. As we approached by dead reckoning the
vicinity of Yarmouth the precautions were redoubled. The
lead was heaved. The log was cast. The whistle blew and the
small cannon on deck was frequently fired. But only dull cloud
echoes were returned. At length, while listening intently for
any sound that might give indication of our whereabouts, the
hoarse roar of the surf, lashing \^ith ceaseless rage the rocky
shore, was heard. Soon the fog lifted a little, and a white line
of breakers was seen on almost every side. When the familiar
landmarks were recognized, it was found that we were almost
at the entrance of the harbour.

Yarmouth is one of the most enterprising towns in the
Province, and for its size, it is claimed, the greatest ship-owning
port in the world. Its population in 1887 was 7,000. Its
shipmasters owned twelve steamers, fifty-two ships, forty -three
barques, eleven brigs and one hundred and nine schooners,

YARMOUTH.

an aggregate of two hundred and twenty-seven vessels, with a
carrying capacity of 120,394 tons — a record of which any
country might be proud. Almost alone it has constructed
the Western Counties' Railway to Annapolis. Its schools,
banks, churches and public institutions are of conspicuous
excellence.

Along this rugged coast that we have been describing, that
heroic pioneer explorer, Champlaiu, with his companions in
their puny vessels sailed, exploring every bay and island, as
well as the New England shore. Champlain has left us a
minute and accurate account of the country, its products and
people, illustrated with quaint drawings by his own hand.

This south-western part of the peninsula, especially the
Tusket Lakes, and the vast forests in the vicinity, is a very
paradise of sportsmen. Salmon streams, with pictiiresque water-
falls, abound, and the country is still the home of the moose
and cariboo deer, and the Government is taking proper precau-
tions to prevent their extermination.

An old moose-hunter thus discourses on this noble sport :
"There are three modes of hunting the moose, termed still-
hunting, fire-hunting, and calling. There was another mode
which legislation has in a great measure suppressed, viz.: the
wholesale slaughter of the unfortunate animals when the deep-
lying snows of a protracted winter had imprisoned them in their
ya :, and rendered them only a too easy prey to the un-
principled butchers who slew them for their skins.

"To be successful in still-hunting, or creeping upon the
moose, necessitates the aid of a skilful Indian guide ; very few,
if any, white men ever attain the marvellous precision with
which an Indian, to whom the pathless forest is an open book
which he reads as he runs, will track to its death an animal so
exceedingly sensitive to the approach of man. This gift, or
instinct, seems born with the Indian, and is practised from his
early childhood.

"The finely modulated voice of the Indian is especially
adapted to imitate the different calls and cries of the denizens
of the forest, and with a trumpet of birch bark, he will imitate
to the life the plaintive low of the cow-moose and the re-

SALMON STREAMS,

sponsive bellow of the bull. Early morning, twilight, or moon-
light are all favourable to this manner of hunting. The

Indian, having selected a favourable position for his purpose,
generally on the margin of u lake, heath, or bog, where he can

MOOSE HUNTING.

readily conceal himself, puts his birch trumpet to his mouth,
and gives the call of the cow-moose, in a manner so ^;fi-.rtling
and truthful that only the educated ear of an Indian could
detect the counterfeit. If the call is successful, presently the
responsive bull-moose is heard crashing through the forest,
uttering his blood-curdling bellow or roar, and rattling his
horns against the trees in challenge to all rivals, as he comes
to the death which awaits him. Should the imitation be poor,
the bull will either not respond at all, or approach in a stealthy
manner and retire on discovery of the cheat. Moose-calling is
seldom attempted by white men, the gift of calling with success
being rare even among the Indians.

"Fire-hunting, or hunting by torchlight, is practised by
exhibiting a bright light formed by burning bunches of birch
bark, in places known to be frequented by moose. The
brilliant light seems to fascinate the animals, and he will readily
approach within range of the rifle. The torch placed in the
bow of a canoe is also used as a lure on a lake or river, but is
attended with considerable danger, as a wounded or enraged
moose will not unfrequently upset the canoe.

" The mode of hunting which generally prevails is that of
still-hunting, or creeping upon the moose, which is undoubtedly
the most sportsman-like way. Still-hunting can be practised
in September, and all through the early winter months, until
the snow becomes so deep that it would be a sin to molest the
poor animals. The months of September and October are
charming months for camping out, and the moose then are in
fine condition, and great skill and endurance are called for on
the part of the hunter. The moose possesses a vast amount of
pluck, and when once started on his long, swinging trot, his
legs seem tireless, and he will stride over boulders and wind-
falls at a pace which soon distances his pursuers, and, but for
the sagacity of the Indian guide in picking out the trail, would
almost always escape.

" The largest moose that 1 ever saw measured six feet and
nearly five inches at the withers, and from the withers to the
top of the skull, twenty-seven inches. The head measured two
feet and five inches from the moufiie to a point between the

'm^i

MOOSE HUNTIXG.

ears, iin<l nine inches between the eyes. The horns weighed
forty-tive pounds, and measured four feet and three inches
from tine to tine at their widest part, and at the greatest
width the palniated parts measured tliirteen inches. The horn,
at its junction with the skull, was eight inclies in circumference.
The great lengtli of his legs and prehensile lip are of much
benefit to the moose, and wonderfully adapted for his mode
of feeding, wliich consists in peeling the bark from, and
browsing upon, the branches and tender shoots of deciduous
trees. When the branches or tops of trees are beyond his
reach, he resorts to the process termed by huntei's ' riding down
the tree,' by getting astride of it and bearing it down by the.
weight of his body until the coveted bi'anches are within his
reach.

" The senses of .smelling and hearing are very acute, his long
ears are ever moving to and fro, intent to catch the. slightest
sound, ind his wonderfully constructed nose carries the signal
of danger to his brain, long before the unwary hunter has
the slightest idea that his presence is .suspected. When
alarmed, this ponderous animal moves away with the silence
of death, carefully avoiding all obstructions, and selecting the
moss-carpeted bogs and swales, through which he threads his
way with a persistence that often sets at defiance all the arts
and endurance of even the practised Indian hunter"

The fine engraving which accompanies this article gives a
graphic view of some of the magnificent moose and caribou
deer of the forests of Nova Scotia, New Brunswick and British
Columbia. The broad snow-shoes and the toboggan-like sleigh
will be observed, also the big ass-like ears, and broad heavy
horns of the gigantic moose ; and the more slender and
branching horns of the caribou deer. The favourite time of
hunting them is in the deep snow of winter, when the hunter
on his snow-shoes can skim over the .surface while the moose
breaks through. The moose has a habit of treading down the
snow wivhin a certain area, called a moose-yard, till he has
eaten all the tender shoots of the trees, and then he moves on
to fresh fields and pastures new.

Forty miles f rom Yai'mouth is the old French "Clare Settle-

i'^'J

f^'-'^H

■ ^

5'1

MLl;

ifl

lonof

arts

ACADIAN SETTLEMENT.

ment." After tho conijuest of Caimrla, th. Acadian exiles were
permitted to return to their native lan<l, but finding their
former homes on the basin of Minas occupied by the English,
a number settled on St. Mary's Bay. They [^n ow eventually to
a community of four or five thousand souls. They preserve
their own language and usages, and form probably the most
considerable Acadian settlement extant, the next being those
Louisiana Acadians of whom fable discourses so pleasantly.

Still sbindH tlie forest primeval ; hut under the shade of its branchuB

Po'ells another race, with other customs and language.

Only along the shores of the mournful and misty Atlantic

Linger a few Acadian peasants, whose fathers from exile

Wandered back to their native land to die in its bosom.

In the fisherman's cot the wheel and the loom are still busy ;

Maidens still wear their Norman caps and their kirtles of homespun,

And by the evening fire repeat Evangeline's story,

While fiom its rocky caverns the deep-voiced, neighbouring ocean

Spt-akH, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest.

TRURO TO AMHERST.

I have left undescribed that part of Nova Scotia between
Truro and Amherst ; I therefore return to briefly recount its
more striking features.

I arrived at Truro Junction in a pouring rain, and was in
doubt whether to go on by the night train, or to stop over in
liope of having fairer weather to visit Fort Cumberland and
Sackville. I sallied out therefore to look for a barometer. I
found one in a doctor's office, and, though it was still pouring,
as the top of the column of mercury was somewhat convex, I
concluded to stay. Next day it was still raining heavily, but
my faith in science was confirmed by the fine weather signal on
the train. Sure enough, in an hour or two we came out of the
rain belt, and had bright .sunshine.

The railroad for some distance west of Truro traverses the
Cobequid Mountains, low rounded hills about a thousand feet
high. The scenery is picturesque, and the outlook over the
vast Wallace Valley is extremely grand and impressive. At the
Folly River is a substantial viaduct, six hundred feet long
and eighty-two feet high, and many deep cuttings give evidence
of the labour expended in the construction of the road.

:''";t

AMHERST.

At Springhill station one may take the Cumberland Railway
to Parrsboro', one of the most charming suminer resorts of Nova

Scotia. A few miles farther on, the main line brings one ta
Jhe pleasant town of Amherst. lis prevailing aspect is one of

TIDAL STREAMS,

neatness and tluii't, and there are evidences of large manu-
facturing industries. Nearly every window seemed tilled with
flowers, even those of the Roman Catholic church. The
Methodist church is a verj' handsome one, the best in the place*

As it was a lovely day, I walked from Amherst to Sackville,
a distance of ten or eleven miles, stopping to explore the ruins
of Fort Lawrence and Fort Cumberland, formerly Fort Beau-
bassin and Fort Beausojour, on the way. These grass-grown
ramparts, on the opposite sides of the Missiguash River, are
among the latest relies of tlie long conflict between France and
England for the Province of Acadia. They were constructed
at this narrowest part of the isthmus connecting Nova Scotia
anil the main land, and \v'ere the scene of much hard fighting.
It was a pleasant walk through a Ruysdael-like landscape — vast
meadows reclaimed from the sea, and protected by miles on
milss of dikes, constructed with enormous labour, to keep out
the tides. The outline of Fort Lawrence can with difficulty be
traced amid the fields ix\\i\ neat white buildings of a comfortable
farmstead. Three miles distant rise the cleai*-cut outlines of
Fort Cumberland — Beausojour, as the French called it — crown-
ing a somewhat bold eminence. Here for long yeai\s these forts
frowned defiance at each other, and not .seldom exchanged
salutes, not of friendship, but of deadly hate. I walked across
the intervening vulley on the Intercolonial Railway, whose iron
bridge spans the JVIissiguash, now, as then, the boundary line.

The.se tidal rivers have the habit of changing their direction in
an extraordinary manner. When the tide is rising it rushes
violently up stream in a turbulent flood, sometimes accompanied
by a great "bore" or rolling wave, five or six feet high. At
low water a languid, slimy stream crawls sluggishly between
its muddy banks. You will often see good-sized vessels stranded
among the orchard trees, »xnd leaning at all angles in their oozy
bed. But this very marsh mud, when diked and cultivated,
produces with apparently exhaustless fertility the richest crops.
'■ Man scarcely begins to realize such productions of nature,"
says Mr. C. Murphy, " until he considers the practicability of
utilizing them. The early settlers were not slow in recognizing
the value of these marshes, and the feasibility of their acqui-

TIDAL STREAMS.

sition by diking them. The currents, too, are considered,
studied and applied by the mariner, and made to subserve his
purpose in bearing him rapidly along with more unerring pre-
cision than the no less phenomenal trade winds.

" The fisherman also profits by the great height of the tide
which, during the flood, comes with its large shoals of such fish
as resort to the coast. These remain to feed until the return
or ebb tide falls somewhat, and are trapped within weirs of
wattles, that are made to run out past their line of retreat.
Large quantities of herring, cod and shad thus left dry at low
water, are carted to the smoke-houses, prepared and packed in
small cases and forwarded to the difierent markets."

PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND.

PEIiN'CE EDWAED ISLAND.

BEFORE I cross the Missiguash river, the boundary line
between Nova Scotia and New Brunswick, I must turn
for a few pages to the sister province of Prince Edward Island.
It is difficult to treat, systematically, the several provinces of
our vast Dominion, without certain interruptions of the con-
tinuity of the narrative. But it will be more convenient,
before we turn westward, to describe the islands of the Lower
Gulf, including also the great island of Newfoundland.

Prince Edward Island is the smallest of the Canadian Prov-
inces, embracing an area of only 2,133 square miles. But
what it lacks in extent it largely makes up in fertility. The
island is one hundred and thirty miles long, with an extreme
breadth of thirty-four miles ; but its much-indented shore gives
it a great extent cf coast line. The surface is low and undu-
lating ; the air soft and balmy, and much milder and less
foggy than the adjacent mainland. The scenery, while not
bold or striking, is marked by a rural picturesqueness, and is
often lighted by shimmering reaches of salt-water lagoons,
and far-stretching bays, clear and blue as those of the Medi-
terranean.

Prince Edward Island, known till 1798 as St. John's Island,
is supposed to have been discovered by Cabot in one of his
early voyages. For over two centuries it remained uncolo-
nized, save as a French fishing-station. When Acadia and New-
foundland were ceded to England by the treaty of Utrecht,
many of the French inhabitants removed to the fertile island
of St. John. This population was still further increased, on
the expulsion of the Acadians in 1765, by fugitives from that
stern edict. By the treaty of 1703, St. John's Island, with the
whole of Canada and Cape Breton, passed into the possession

/CE FERRY,

of the British. It continued to form part of the extensive
province of Nova Scotia till 1770. It was surveyed by Captain
Holland, and reported to contain 365,400 acres of land, all but
10,000 of which was fit for agriculture.

In 1798, the name of the colony was changed, out of compli-
ment to Edward, Duke of Kent — afterwards father of Queen
Victoria — to Prince Edward Island. Among the most ener-
getic proprietors was the Earl of Selkirk, the founder of the
Red River Settlement, to be hereafter described. During the
early years of the century, he transferred not less than 4,000
hardy Highlanders, from his Scottish estates, to this fertile
island, and contributed greatly to its agricultural development.

The island is most readily reached from the mainland, by
boat from Shediac to Summerside, or from Pictou to Charlotte-
town. Summerside is a pleasant town, with a population of
4,000, with a charming summer resort on an island command-
ing a fine view of the Bedique shores and Northumberland
Strait.

Sailing eastward, the steamer passes through this strait at its
narrowest part — between Cape Traverse and Cape Tormentine.
Here the mails and passengers are carried across by ice-boats
in winter, it being often found impracticable to keep a steamer
running through the thick and drifting ice. This unique mode
of travel is thus described by Mr. W. R. Reynolds :

"The distance to Cape Traverse is about nine miles, part
solid ice, part drifting ice, part water, and sometimes a great
deal of broken ice or ' lolly.' The ' ice-boat ' is a strongly built
water boat, in charge of trusoy men who thoroughly understand
the difficult task that is before them. To this boat straps are
attached, and each man, passengers included, has one slung over
him. So long as there is any foothold, all hands drag the boat
along, and when the water is reached they pull the boat in it
and get on board. In this way, sometimes up to the waist in
water, but safely held by the strap, pulling and hauling over
all kinds of places, the journey is accomplished. Sometimes,
when the conditions are good, the trip has less hardships than
when a large amount of loose ice is piled across the path ; but
at any time the ' voyage ' is sufficiently full of novelty, excite-

THE ISLAND RAILWAY.

ment and exercise, to be remembered for many days. There is
nothing like it in the ordinary experience of a traveller. It is
an unique style of journeying, yet, so far, it is the only sure
method of communication with the island in the winter season."

Charlotte town, the capital of the island, with a population of
about 12,000, is situated on gently rising ground, fronting on a
capacious land-locked harbour. The streets, one hundred feet
wide, are laid out in regular rectangles. The most imposing
structure is the Colonial Building, constructed of Nova Scotia
freestone, at a cost of $85,000. The Legislative Council and
Assembly chambers are handsomely furnished. The Wesleyan
College overlooks the city and harbour. It has ten instructors
and about three hundred students.

The island is traversed from end to end by a narrow-gauge
railway, constructed by the Dominion Government. Fertility
of soil, simplicity of manners, and thrift and industry of the
people, are the characteristics of the country. As a local poet
expresses it :

*' No land can boast more rich supply,
That e'er was found beneath the sky ;
No purer streams have ever flowed,
Since Heaven that bounteous gift bestowed. . .
And herring, like a mighty host,
And cod and mackerel, crowd the coast."

The railway traverses a fertile farming country — " a sort of
Acadia in which Shenstone might have delighted." Among the
principal stations, going west from Charlottetown, are Rustico,
a pleasant marine settlement; Summerside, already referred to;
Alberton, a prosperous village engaged in ship building and
fisheries ; and Tignish, in the extreme northern point, an im-
portant fishing station. At Alberton were born the Gordons —
martyred missionaries of Erromanga, one of whom was killed
bv the natives in 1861, and the other in 1872. At the eastern
end of the island are Souris and Georgetown, termini of the
two branches of the railway. They are prosperous fishing and
shipping towns.

The Magdalen Islands, thirteen in number, lie out in the
Gulf, fifty miles north of Prince Edward Island. The inhabi-

DEADMAIVS ISLE.

tants are mostly Acadian fishermen, speaking French only.
The harbours, during the fishing season, are the rendezvous
of hundreds of sail engaged in the pursuit of the immense
schools of mackerel and cod, which swarm in the neighbouring
waters. The drift ice in the spring brings down myriads of
seals, of which, 6,000 have been taken in a fortnight, by seal
hunters going out from the shore. It is claimed that these
islands furnish the best lobster fishery in America.

Deadman's Isle, an isolated rock, takes its name from its
fancied resemblance to a corpse laid out for burial. While
passing this rock, in 1804, Tom Moore wrote the poem, of which
the following are the closing lines :

"There lieth a wreck on the dismal shore
Of cold and pitiless Iiabrador,
Where, under the moon, upon mounts of frost,
Full many a mariner's bones are tossed.

Yon shadowy bark hath been to that wreck,
And the dim blue fire that lights her deck
Doth play on as pale and livid a crew
As ever yet drank the churchyard dew.

To Deadman's Isle in the eye of the blast,
To Deadman's Isle she speeds her fast ;
By skeleton shapes her sails are furled.
And the hand that steers is not of this world."

In the month of August, 1873, a terrible storm swept over
these waters, strewing with wrecks their rocky shores. Many
scores of vessels were lost, and hundreds of gallant fishermen
found a watery grave. The dreadful disaster is commemorated
in the following fine poem, by Edmund C. Stedman :

THE LORD's-DAY GALE.

In Gloucester port lie fishing craft, —
More staunch and trim were never seen:

They are sharp before and sheer abaft,
And true their lines the masts between.

Along the wharves of Gloucester town

Their fares are lightly landed down.
And the laden flakes to sunward lean.

LORDS-DAY GALE.

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And some must sail to the banks far north
And set their trawls for the hungry cod, —

In the ghostly fog creep back and forth
By shrouded paths no foot hath trod ;

Upon the crews the ice-winds blow,

The bitter sleet, the frozen snow, —
Their lives are in the hand of God 1

The Grand Bank gathers in its dead, —
The deep sea-sand is their winding-slieet ;

Who does not George's billows dread
That dash together the drifting fleet?

Who does not long to hear, in May,

The pleasant wash of Saint Lawrence Bay,
The fairest ground where fishermen meet?

The Province craft with ours at morn
Are mingled when the vapours shift;

All day, by breeze and current borne,
Across the bay the sailors drift :

With toll and seine its wealth they win, —

The dappled silvery spoil come in
Fast as their hands can haul and lift.

Cape Breton and Edward Isle between,
In strait and gulf the schooners lay ;

The sea was all at peace, 1 ween,
The night before that August day ;

Was never a Gloucester skipper there,

Buc thought erelong, with a right good fare.
To sail for home from Saint Lawrence Bay.

The east wind gathered all unknown, —
A thick sea-cloud his course before ;

He left by night the frozen zone
And smote the cliffs of Labrador ;

He lashed the coasts on either hand.

And betwixt the Cape and Newfoundland
Into the Bay his armies pour.

He caught our helpless cruisers there

As a gray wolf harries the huddling fold ;

A sleet — a darkness — filled the air,
A shuddering wave before it rolled :

That Lord's-day morn it was a breeze,—

At noon, a blast that shook the seas, —
At night — a wind of Death took hold 1

LORD'S-DAY GALE.

It leaped across the Breton bar,

A douth-wind from the stormy east 1
It scarred the land, and whirled afar

The sheltering thatch of man and beast ;
It mingled rick and roof and tree.
And like a besom swept the sea,

And churned the waters into yeast.

From Saint Paul's light to Edward's Isle

A thousand craft it smote amain ;
And some against it strove the while,

And more to make a port were fain :
The mackerel- gulls flew screaming ])ast,
And the stick that bent to the noonday blast

Was split by the sundown hurricane.

Woe, woe to those whom the islands pen!

In vain they shun the double capes ;
Cruel are the reefs of Magdalen ;

The wolPs white fang what prey escapes 9
The Grindstone grinds the bones of some,
And Coffin Isle is craped with foam ; —

On Deadman's shore are fearful shapes !

O, what can live on the open sea,

Or moored in port the gale outride?
The very craft that at anchor be

Are dragged along by the swollen tide !
The great storm wave came rolling west.
And tossed the vessels on its crest :

The ancient bounds its might defied I

The ebb to check it had no power ;

The surf ran up to an untold height ;
It rose, nor yielded, hour by hour,

A night and day, a day and night ;
Far up the seething shores it cast
The wreck of hull and spar and mast.

The strangled crews, — a woeful sight 1

There were twenty and more of Breton sail
Fast anchored on one mooring ground ;

Each lay within his neighbour's hail.

When the thick of the tempest closed them round :

All sank at once in the gaping sea, —

Somewhere on the shoals their corses be.

The foundered hulks, and the seamen drowned.

LORD'S-DAY GALE.

On reof and bar our schooners drove

Before the wind, before tlie swell ;
By the steep sand-clifFs their ribs were stove,—

Long, long their crews the tale shall tell !
Of the Gloucester fleet are wrecks threescore ;
Of the Province sail two hundred more

Were stranded in that tempest foil.

The bedtime bells in Gloucester town
That Sabbiith night rang soft and clear ;

The sailors' cliildren laid them down, —

Dear Lord ! their sweet prayers could'st Thou hear?

"Tis said that gently blew the winds ;

The good wives, through the seaward blinds,
Looked down the Bay and had no fear.

New England ! New England !

Thy ports their dauntless seamen mourn ;
The twin capes yearn for their return

Who never shall be thither borne ;
Their orphans whisper us they meet;
The homes are dark in many a street,

And women move in weeds forlorn.

And wilt thou lail, and dost thou fear ?

Ah, nol though widows' cheeks are pale,
The lads shall say : ' Another year.

And we shall be of age to sail I '
And the mothers' hearts shall fill with pride,
Though tears drop fast for tliem who died

When the fleet wag wrecked in the Lords-day gale.

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NE I VI'V UNDLA ND.

I^EWFOITXDLAND.

BEFORE turning westward to the great provinces of
Quebec and Ontario, I must give a sketch of the physi-
cal character, principal industries, and historic associations of
the vast island of Newfoundland, Though not yet a part of
the Dominion of Canada, it is not likely that it will much
longer remain dissevered from political relations with the rest
of British North America. The present writer has not person-
ally visited Newfoundland, and is, therefore, dependent upon
the excellent authorities cited for the account of it here given.

The physical aspect of this great island is thus described by
the Rev. Dr. Carman :

Newfoundland is a vast, triangular island with a base of
316 miles, and altitude of 317 miles. It has an area of 42,000
square miles, one-sixth larger than Ireland ; two-thirds the
size of England and Wales together ; and with a coast line of
2,000 miles ; having in its whole extent only 200,000 people
scattered and grouped along that coast line, and perhaps not
5,000 of them three miles from the sea. But how could there
be coast line of 2,000 miles on a triangle of the dimensions
given above ? That line is gashed with great bays, broader
than Lake Ontario, and half as long at places, nearly cutting
the island in twain, and embraced in huge, protruding arms of
rocky range that themselves, with all the shore, are riven and
ploughed into a thousand less bays, and rough and rocky coves,
around which the fishermen have built their little houses, and
into the largest of which the merchants and traders have fol-
lowed them, and built up the villages and little towns.

Let us stand on ship-deck and look at the shore, and what we
see in one place we see in nearly all : rock, towering rock,
from 50 to 500 feet above the restless sea, bare and barren ;

ASPECT OF COAST.

mighty bulwarks against tho northern main, battered and broken
with iceberg ; ploughed and ground with tempest and wave.
What less than such ramparts and citadels, whose massive
masonry was laid deep in subterranean chambers, and whose
walls were lifted and piled by the twin giants, earthquake and
volcano, could ever have withstood the rush of the tremendous
phalanxes of iceberg and avalanche poured upon these rugged
shores by the ice king of the Arctic domain, and the dash of
the fierce tempests upon the storm-scarred towers ? And these
grand harbours, of which the island has its scores, how utterly
indispensable they are, and how wonderfully they are formed I

Take a port like that of St. John's, where you enter as in an
instant from the open sea betwixt two walls of precipitous
rock, hundreds of feet high, by a passage scarcely wide enough
for two vessels to pass, and come in a minute into a long and
broad basin completely surrounded by equally lofty ranges of
rock, where a navy may ride in calm, deep sea, in perfect
security.

Take another, like that at Trinity, where we enter by a chan-
nel not much wider, and come at once into a large, open bay,
surrounded by towering rocks as at St. John's, and then may
press up into the land betwixt the precipitous hills on either
of two extensive arms of the sea, giving not only a safe retreat,
but actually a hiding-place for the navies of nations. These
wonders abound, but there is not one too many or one too safe
when the storms of the Atlantic and the fogs and currents and
ice come into the account.

Think of such a coast as this, with its lofty head bold and
bald to the sea ; its mountain and hill girt bays and coves ; its
tempest-riven and wave-worn cliffs and precipices ; with the
people given to fishing, and the communication by water ten-
fold readier and easier than by land ; and how are you going to
build waggon roads and railroads ? And what are you going
to do with them when you get them ? But the enterprising
Newfoundlanders are solving that very problem, difficult as it
is. Not by a sectional or municipal arrangement, but by the
concentration of the energies and resources of all the people in
the general Government they are gradually, by well-built

mm i'

I I

I
1

* I I

ty ' I

SIGNAL STATION.

roads connecting the out-ports, inaccessible by land as they
have been, with the capital ; and even invading the interior of
the island, which is a terra incognita, and will yet be, in many

respects, a new-found-land to the Newfoundlanders themselves.
The waggon-roads they have built are most of them excellent
to travel upon, as the bed is hard, and much of the rock is

S7\ JOf/iVS HARBOUR.

easily triturated and cements naturally, making? in a little while
a very smooth and solid way indeed. The road runs along the
shore, from harbour to harbour, connecting the coves as nearly
as possible at their heads, and opening up to the traveller some
of the grandest mountain and ocean scenery in the world.

ST. John's.

We are indebted to the Rev. W. W. Percival fov the following
account of the entrance to the famous harbour (if St. John's,
and of the city itself :

On every side a lofty, iion-bound coast presents itself to
view ; the grim, hoary rocks seem to frown defiance to the
angry Atlantic. As the ship approaches nearer and nearer,
you think that surely she is only rushing on to her doom,
when suddenly the voyager sees a narrow opening in the rocky
wall, as if by some mighty convulsion of nature the rampart
had been rent asunder, and the sea had rushed in. Through
this narrow entrance he safely glides, su rounded by a wall of
rock on either side, some five or six hundred feet in height. It
is impossible to gaze upon those great cliffs of dark red sand-
stone, piled in huge masses on a foundation of gray slate-rock,
without <>xperiencing a feeling of awe. On his right, surmount-
ing an almost perp<;ndicular precipice five hun<lred and ten feet
above the level of the sea,».stands the "Block House" for
signalling vessels as they approath the harbour. On his left,
tlie hill rises still higher by a hundied feet, and looks rugged and
broken. From th.e base of this hill a rocky promontory juts out,
forming tie ontranco of tlu- " Narrows " on one side, its summit
being crowned by Fort Ainlitrst lighthouse. In formm' years
batteries, armed with formidable xnns, rose one above another
amid the clefts of the r(x;ks ; but years ago the garrison was
withdrawn, and the cannon removed.

The pa.ssag«' leading to the harbour, oommonly called the
Narrows, is nearly half a mile in length, and it is not till about
two-thirds of it is paHsed that the city itself comes into view,
as at the termination of this channel, the harboui' tends sud-
denly to the west, thus completely shutting out the swell of the

,ri 1

57: JOHNS.

ocean. Ten minutes after leaving the foam-crested billows of
the Atlantic, your ship is safely moored at the wharf, in a
perfectly land-locked harbour. Vessels, of the largest tonnage
can enter at all times, for there is not more than four feet of a
tide. The Narrows, in the narrowest part, is about sixteen
hundred feet in width. The harbour is about half a mile in
length, and about half a mile in width. It is deep, having from
live to ten fathoms, and in the centre sixteen fathoms of water.

Mr. Percival proceeds as follows to describe the capital: The
city occupies a commanding site on the northern side of the
harbour. From the water's edge the ground rises with a
gradual slope till the sunnnit is reached, where there is a large
level space. Along the face of this slope the main streets run
east and west, being intersected by others running up over the
hill north and .south. Water Street, the principal business
avenue, runs parallel with the harbour the whole length of the
city. It presents a very substantial, if not a very artistic
appearance, the houses being mostly built of brick and stone.
Shops, stores, and mercantile counting-houses occupj^ the ground
floors, while many of the merchants and shopkeepers live in the
upper stories. A vast amount of business is transacted every
year in this street ; perhaps there is not another in British
America that transacts more, for nearly the whole business of
the colony is done here.

The architectural appearance of the city, though nothing to be
prouil of, has vastly im-proved during the past dozen years.
Heretofore the custom too largely prevailed of many of the mer-
chants coming out to St. John's .siuiply to make money, and after
succeeding in doing so, returning to England or Scotland to
spend it lavishly in embellishing their homes. Only intending
to live here for a brief period, they were not particular how they
lived, or where. But this condition of things, we are thankful
to say, is rapidly becoming obsolete, and the result is .seen in the
marked architectural improvement of the city. Already, on the
summits overlooking the business part of the city, there are
houses of a very superior description, and many more are being
erected every summer.

St. John's, in former years, suffered terribly by fire. Twice

DISASTROUS FIRES.

the greater portion of it was laid in ashes. In 1816 a fire broke
out, which consumed SiiOO.OOO worth of property, leaving fifteen
hundred persons homeless and shelterless, amidst the biting
frosts of February. Just as they were partially recovering
from the effects of this calamity another of the same kind, only
of still greater extent, occurred. On the morning of the
9th of June, 1846, another fire broke out in the western end of
the city, which swept eve "ything before it, and before night
three-fourths of the wealthy and populous city were a smoking
mass of ruins. As the houses were then mostly built of wood,
and as a high wind prevailed at the time, the firebrands were
hurled far and wide. To add to the terrors of the scene, while the
red tongues of flame were leaping from street to street, the huge
oil vats on the south side of the harbour took fire. Liquid fire
now spread over the whole surface of the water, and ignited a
nutnl)'"* of ships in the harbour, thus adiling to the terrible
gran' I. f the scene. Before the day closed, twelve thousand
people were homeless, and property valued at $4,500,000 waa
destroyed.

Among the more prominent public buildings are the Govern-
ment House, the Colonial Building, Custom House, Athenaaum
Hall, and several churches. Government House is a plain, sub-
stantial stone building, without architectural pretensions, but
spacious and comfortable. The Colonial Building is a large plain
structure, built of white limestone, imported direct from Cork,
though why it was necessary to send all the way there for it
was always a mystery to the writer. The Athenteum comprises a
large public hall, reading-room. and library of well-selected books,
and several public offices. The most conspicuous of the churches
is the Roman cathedral. It occupies a com nanding site on the
summit of the hill, on which the city is built. It is in the form
of a vast Latin cross, with two lofty towers in front. The
Church of England cathedral will rank among the finest ecclesi-
astical edifices in British America. The growth of Methodism
has been rapid within the past few years, and it has a number
of fine churches.

Any description of this ancient and loyal Colony would be
essentially incomplete were we to omit mention of the fisheries.

1X4

COD-FISHERY.

as these constitute the grand staple industry of the island. In
this department Newfoundland is in advance of all other
countries. Her cod-fi.sheries are the most extensive in the world.
The cod-fishery has been prosecuted during the last three hun-
dred and seventy-five years ; but notwithstanding the enormous
draughts every year, the f^ahing grounds show not the least sign
of exhaustion. When 'Jir Humphrey Gilbert took possession
of the island, in 1583, he found thirty-six ships in the harbour
of St. John's engaged in fishing. All the v»ther fisheries, includ-
ing seal, salmon, and herring, in the aggregate only amount
in value to about one-fifth of the cod-fishery.

FISH-CURING.

Tlie method of curing the cod-fisb is thus described in Messrs.
Harvey and Hatton's admirable History of Newfoundland:

When the fisherman's boat, laden with the day's catch, reaches
his stage — a rough-covered platform, projecting over the water
and supported on poles — the fish are flung one by one from the
boat to the floor of the stage, with an instrument /.sembling a
small pitchfork, and called a "pew." The cod is now seized by
the "cut-throat," armed with a sharp knife, who with one stroke
slits open the fish, and passes in to the " header.' This operator
first extracts the liver, which is dropped into a vessel at his side,
to be converted into cod-liver oil. He then wrenches off the
head, removes the viscera, which are thrown into a vessel, to be
preserved along with the head for the farmer, who, mixing them
with bos: and earth thus forms an excellent fertilizer. The
tongues and sounds, or air-bladders, are also taken out, and whon
pickled, make an excellent article of food. The fish now passes
to the " splitter," who, placing it on its back, and holding it
open with his left hand, cuts along the backbone to the ba^-e of
the tail. The fish now lies open on the table, and with a sharp
stroke of the knife the "splitter" severs the backbone, and
catching the end thus freed, severs it from the body. The
"saiter" now takes hold of the fish, and having carefully washed
away every particle of blood, he salts it in piles on the floor of
the fisli-house. After remaining the proper leugth of time in

84>

FISH FLAKES.

salt, it is taken from the heap, washed, and carried to the "flake,"
where it is spread out to dry. The flake consists of a horizontal
framework of small poles, covered with spruce-boughs, and sup-
ported by upright poles, the air having free access beneath.
Here the cod are spread to bleach in the sun and air, and during
the process require constant attention. In damp or rainy
weather, or at the approach of night, they are piled in small

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heaps with the skin c^utward. When thorouglUy dried they
have a whitish '<i>pearan'(\ ami aiv then ready for storing.

To Messrs. Harvey an.l Hatton's excel'.ent K>ok I am also
indebted for the following gmphic account of ;he seal-fishery:

Next to the cod-fish<»ry, the most valuable of the Newfound-
land tislieries is that (4" the seal. The average annual value at

SEALING.

present of the seal-fishery is about $1,100,000, being about an
eighth part of the entire exports. The number of men em-
ployed is from 8,000 to 10,000.

Beginning with a few nets, there followed the sealing-boats
and the little schooners, carrying each a dozen men, until the
industry was prosecuted with vessels of 200 or 2.50 tons, and
crews of forty or fifty men. At length, all-conquering steam
entered the field, and in 18G3 the first steamer took part in this
fishery. Since then the number of steamers has rapidly in-
creased, and the number of sailing vessels has still more rapidly
diminished. The day is not very distant when this industry
will be carried on solely by powerful steamers. They are
strongly built, to stand the pressure of ice, and cleave their way
through the ice-fields, being stoutly timbered, sheathed with
iron-wood, and having iron-plated stems.

SEALING AND SEALS.

There is always great excitement connected with the seal-
fisheries. The perils and hardships to be encountered, the skill
and courage required in battling with the ice-giants, and ti^c
possible rich prizes to be won, throw a romantic interest around
this adventure. Not the seal-hunters alone, but the whole popu-
lation, from the richest to the poorest, take a deep interest in
the fortunes of the hunt. It is like an army going out to do
battle for those who remain at home. In this case the enemies
to be encountered are the icebergs, the tempest, and the blind-
ing snow-storm. A steamer will sometimes go out and return
in two or three weeks, laden to the gunwale, occasionally bring-
ing home as many as thirty or forty thousand seals, each worth
two and a half or three dollars. The successful hunters are
welcomed with thundering cheers, like returning conquerors,
;;,nd are the heroes of the hour.

According to law, no sailing vessel can be cleared for the ice
before the first of March, and no steai)ier before the 10th of
March ; a start in advance of ten day.' being thus accorded to
the vessels which depend on wind alone. As the time for start-
ing approaches, the streets and wharves of the capital assume

SEALING

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an appearance of bustle, which contrasts pleasantly with the
previous stapjnation. The steamers and sailing vessels begin to
take in stores, and complete their repairs. Rough berths are
fitted up for the sealers ; bags of biscuit, barrels of pork, and
other necessaries are stowed away ; water, fuel, and ballast are
taken on board ; the sheathing of the ships, which has to stand
the grinding of the heavy Arctic ice, is carefully inspected. A
crowd of eager applicants surrounds the shipping offices, power-
ful-looking men, in rough jackets and long boots, splashing
tobacco-juice over the white snow in all directions, and shoulder-
ing one another in their anxiety to get booked. The great
object is to secure a place on board one of the steamers, the
chances of success being considered much better than on board
the sailing vessels. The masters of the steamers are thus able
to make up their crews with picked men. Each steamer has
on board from one hundred and fifty to three hundred men, and
it would be difficult to find a more stalwart lot of fellows in
the Royal Navy itself. The steamers have an immense advan-
tage over the sailing vessels. They can cleave their way through
the heavy ice-packs against the wind: they can double and
beat about in search of the " seal-patches ;" and when the prey
is found, they can hold on to the ice-fields, while sailing vessels
are liable to be driven oflf by a change of wind, and if beset
with ice are often powerless to escape. It is not to be won-
dered at that steamers are rapidly superseding sailing vessels
in the seal-fishery. They can make two, and even three trips
to the ice-field during the season, and thus leave behind the
antiquated sealer dependent on the winds.

Before the introduction of steamers, one hundred and twenty
sailing-vessels, of from forty to two hundred tons, used to leave
the port of St. John's alone for the seal-fishery. Now they are
reduced to some h.ilf-dozen, but from the more distant "out-
ports " numbers of small sailing vessels still engage in this
special industry.

The young seals are born on the ice from the 10th to the
2oth of February, and as they grow rapidly, and yield a much
finer oil than the old ones, the object of the hunters is to reach
them in their babyhood while yet fed by their mothers' milk,

AND SEALERS.

and while they are powerless to escape. So quickly do they
increase in bulk, that by the 28th of March they are in perfect
condition. By the 1st of April they begin to take to the water,
and can no longer be captured in the ordinary way. The great
Arctic current, fed by streams from the seas east of Greenland,
and from Baffin's and Hudson's Bays, bears on its bosom hun-
dreds of square miles of floating ice, which are carried past the
shores of Newfoundland, to find their destiny in the warm
waters of the Gulf Stream. Somewhere amid these floating
masses, the seals have brought forth their young, which remain
on the ice during the first period of their growth, for five or six
weeks. The great aim of the hunters is to get among the hordes
of " white-coats," as the young harp seals are called, during this
period. For this purpose they go forth at the appointed time,
steering northward till they come in sight of those terrible icy
wildernesses, which, agitated by the swell of the Atlantic,
threaten destruction of all rash invaders. These hardy seal-
hunters, however, who are accustomed to battle with the floes,
are quite at home among the bergs and crushing ice-masses ;
and where other mariners would shrink away in terror, they
fearlessly dash into the ice wherever an opening presents itself,
in search of their prey.

In the ice-fields the surface of the ocean is covered with a
glittering expanse of ice, dotted with towering bergs of every
shape and size, having gleaming turrets, domes and spires. The
surface of the ice-field is rugged and broken, rushing frequently
into steep hillocks and ridges. The scene in which " The
Ancient Mariner " found himself, is fully realized :

**Ancl now there came bi)th mist and siiuw,
And it grew wondrous cold ;
And ice, mast-high, came floating by.
As green as emerald.

"And through the drifts the snowy clifts
Did send a dismal sheen :
Nor shajies of men, nor beasts we ken —
The ice was all between.

"The ice was here, the ice was there,
The ice was all around ;
It cracked and growled, and roared and howled,
Like noises in a swound."

■'■■; I

«]il ■

SEALING.

When a storm arises amid these icy solitudes the scene ia
grand and awt'id, bo^'ond all powers of description.

Considering all the perils, it is surprising how few fatal dis-
asters occur. During the seal hunt of 1<S72, one hundred men
perished, fifty of these having gone down in a single vessel,
called the ilunUman, on the coast of Lal)rador. In the same
year, two steamers, the Lioudlioiuid and lietvicvi'v, were crashed
by the ice and sank, but their crews, numbering nearly four
hundred men, manage<] to reach Battle Harbour, in Labrador,
over the ice, after enduring great hardships.

Happily these terrible storms are not frequent. For the most
part the sea is at rest, and then the ice-tields present a strange
beauty of their own, which has a wonderful fascination. When
the sun is shining brightly, it is too dazzling, and its monotony
is wearisome. The moon, the stars, and the flickering Aurora,
are needed to reveal all its beauty.*

We shall now look into the equipment of a sealing steamer,
and then, in imagination, accompany her to the ice-tields, in
order to form son)e idea of the hunt.

In the last week of February, the roads leading from the
various out-ports of St. Johns, begin to be enlivened by the
appearance of the sealers, or, as they are called in the vernacu-
lar, "swilers," tlieir enterprise being designated "swile huntin'."
Each of them carries a bundle of spare clothing over his shoulder,
swinging at the extremity of a pole six or seven feet in length,
which is called a " gatt"," and which serves as a bat or club to
strike the seal on the nose, where it is mo.st vulnerable. The
same weapon serves as an ice-pole in leaping from " pan " to
" pan," and is also used for dragging the skin and fat of the seal
over the fields and hummocks of ice to the side of the vessel.
To answer these various purposes, the "gaff" is armed with an
iron hook at one end and bound with iron. Some of the men,
in addition, carry a long sealing-gun on their shoulders. These
are the " bow " or " after gunners," who are marksmen to shoot

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overhead.

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SEALING

old seals or others that cannot be reached by the " gaff." The
outfit of the sealers is of the simplest description. Sealskin
boots, reaching to the knee, having a thick leather sole well
nailed, to enable them to walk over the ice, protect the feet ;
coarse canvas jackets often showing the industry of a wife or
mother, in the number of patches which adorn them, are worn
over warm woollen shirts and other inner clothing ; sealskin
caps, and tweed or moleskin trousers, with thick woollen mits,
complete the costume, which is more picturesque than hand-
some.

In the forecastle, or other parts of each ship, rough berths are
constructed. The sealers have to furnish themselves with a straw
mattress and blanketing. The men are packed like herrings in
a barrel, and, as a rule, they never undress during the voyage.
In the rare event of putting on a clean shirt, it goes over its
predecessor, without removing the latter — a method which saves
time and trouble, and is, besides, conducive to warmth. The
owner of the vessel supplies the provisions. In sailing vessels,
half the proceeds of the voyage are divided as wages among
the men, but in st'^amers only a third is thus distributed. The
captain gets a certain number of cents per seal.

The food of the men is none of the daintiest, and no one who
is at all squeamish about what he " eats, drinks and avoids,"
need attempt to go " swile huntin'." The diet consists of bis-
cuit, pork, butter, and tea, sweetened with molasses. On three
days of the week dinner consists of pork and " duff," the latter
item consisting of flour and water, with a little fatty substance
intermixed " to lighten it." When boiled it is almost as hard
as a cannon ball. On the other four days of the week, all the
meals consist of tea, sweetened with molasses, and biscuit. Such
is the rough fare on which these hardy fellows go through their
trying and laborious work. When, however, they fall in with
seals, their diet is improved. They cook the heart, liver, flip-
pers, and other parts, and feast on them ad libitum, and gener-
ally come ashore in excellent condition, though the odour that
attends them does not suggest the "spicy breezes" which "blow
soft from Ceylon's Isle." The use of fresh seal meat is highly
conducive to health, and is the best preventive of scurvy. Very

AND SEALERS.

little sickness occurs among the men while leading this rough
life. They are often out for eight or ten weeks without seeing
land, and enduring the hardest toils. When seals are taken in
large quantities, the hold of the vessel is first filled, and then
the men willingly surrender their berths, which are packed full
of " white-coats." In fact, every nook and corner is crammed
with the precious fat ; and the sealers sleep where they can —
in barrels on deck, on a layer of seals, or in the coal bunks. It
is marvellous to see men, after eight or ten weeks of such life,
leap ashore hearty and vigorous. Their outer garments are
polished with seal fat, and it is advisable to keep to windward
of them till they have procured a change of clothing.

The experiences of a sealing voyage are various, being influ-
enced by the ever-shifting condition of the ice, and the direction
of the winds. The grand aim of the sealers is to reach that
portion of the ice which is the " whelping-grounds " of the seals,
while yet the young are in their plump, oleaginous babyhood.
The position of this icy cradle is utterly uncertain, being de-
pendent on the movements of the ice, and the force of the winds
and waves. It ha,s to be sought for amid vast ice-fields. At
times, in endeavouring to push her way through, the vessel is
caught in the heavy ice, and then the ice-saws are called into
requisition, to cut an opening to the nearest " lead " of clear
water, that she may work her way north. But the heavy Arc-
tic ice may close in under the pressure of a nor'-easter, and
then no amount of steam-power can drive her through. Howl-
ing night closes in ; bergs and floes are crashing all around, and
momentarily threatening her with destruction ; the wind roars
through the shrouds, driving on its wings the arrowy sleet and
snow, sharp as needles, which only men of iron can stand.
Thus, locked in the embrace of the floe, the luckless vessel is
drifted helplessly hundreds of miles, till a favourable wind
loosens the icy prison walls. It is no uncommon occurrence for
a hundred vessels to be thus beset by heavy ice, through which
no passage can be forced. Some are " nipped," some crushed to
atoms, and the men have to escape for their lives over the ice.
Others are carried into the great northern bays, or borne in the
heavy "pack "up and down on the ocean for weeks, returning

SEALING

to port " clean " — that is, without a single seal. There are sea-
sons when the boldest and most skilful captains fail. At other
times, by a turn of good fortune, a vessel " strikes the seals " a
day or two after leaving port, and finds herself in the middle
of a "seal patch" sufficient to load the Great Eastern. The
whole ice for miles around is covered thick with the young
" white-coats," and in a fortnight from the time of the depar-
ture, she returns to port, loaded to the gunwale, her very decks
being piled with the skins and fat of seals.

When approaching such an El-Dorado as this, the excitement
on board may be imagined, as the welcome whimpering of the
young harp seals is heard. Their cry has a remarkable resem-
blance to the sobbing or whining of an infant in pain, which is
redoubled as the destroyers approach. Young hunters, who now
apply their gafts for the first time, are often almost overcome
by their baby lamentations. Compassion, however, is soon
gulped down. The vessel is " laid to," the men eagerly bound
on the ice, and the work of destruction begins. A blow on the
nose from the gaff, stuns or kUls the young seal. Instantly the
sculping-knife is at work, the skin, with the fat adhering, is
detached, with amazing rapidity, from i\\e carcass, which is left
on the ice, while the fat and skin alone are carried off. This
process is called " sculping " — a corruption, no doubt, of scalp-
ing. The skin or pelt is generally about three feet long, and
two and a half feet wide, and weighs from thirty-five to fifty
pounds. Five or six pelts are reckoned a heavy load to drag
over rough or broken ice, sometimes for one or two miles. If
the ice is loose and open, the hunter has to leap from pan to
pan.

Fancy two or three hundred men on a field of ice carrying on
this work. Then what a picture the vessel presei-is as the pelts
are being piled on deck to cool, previous to stowage below ! One
after another the hunters arrive with their loads, and snatch a
hasty moment to drink a bowl of tea, and eat a piece of biscuit
and butter. The poor mother seals, now cubless, are seen pop-
ping their heads up in the small lakes of water and holes among
the ice, anxiously looking for their young.

So soon as the sailing vessel reaches port with her fat cargo,

AND SEALERS.

the skinners go to work and separate skin and fat. The former
are at once salted and stored for export to England, to be con-
verted into boots and shoes, harness, portmanteaus, etc. The
old method of manufacturing the fat was to throw it into huge
wooden vats, in which the pressure of its own weight, and the
heat of the sun, extracted the oil, which was drawn off' and
barrelled for exportation. This was a tedious process. Latterly-
steam has been employed to quicken the extraction of the oil.
By means of steam-driven machinery, the fat is now rapidly
cut up by revolving knives into minute pieces, then ground
finer in a sort of gigantic sausage-machine ; afterwards steamed
in a tank, which rapidly extracts the oil ; and finally, before
being barrelled, it is exposed for a time in glass-covered tanks
to the action of the sun's rays. By this process, the work of
manufacturing, which formerly occupied two months, is com-
pleted in two weeks. Not only so, but by jbhe steam process,
the disagreeable smell of the oil is removed, the quality im-
proved, and the quantity increased.

The refuse is sold to the farmers, who mix it with bog and
earth, which converts it into a highly fertilizing compost. The
average value of a ton of seal-oil is about a hundred and forty
dollars. The sUin of a young harp seal is worth froni ninety
to one hundred cents. The greater part of the oil is sent to
Britain, where it is largely used in lighthouses and mines, and
for lubricating machinery. It is also used in the manufacture
of the finer kinds of soap.

The maternal instinct appears to be peculiarly strong in the
female seal, and the tenderness with which the mothers watch
over their young offspring, is most touching. When the young
seals are cubbed on the ice, the mothers remain in the neigh-
bourhood, going off each morning to fish, and returning at
intervals to give them suck. It is an extraordinary fact that
the old oeals manage to keep holes in the ice open, and to pre-
vent them freezing over in order that they may reach the water.
On returning fr*om a fishing excursion, extending over fifty or
a hundred miles, each mother seal manages to find the hole by
which she took her departure, and to discover her own snow-
white cub, which she proceeds to fondle and suckle. This is

SEALING.

9ft

certainly one of the most remarkable achievements of animal
instinct. The young " wliite-coats " are scattered in myriads
over the ice-tield. During the absence of the mother, the field
of ice has shifted its position, perhaps many miles, being borne
on the current. Yet each mother seal is able to find her own
hole, and to pick out her own cub from the immense herd with
unerring accuracy. It is qtnte touching to witness their signs
of distress and grief when they return and find only a skinless
carcass, instead of their whimpering little ones.

Just as the eagle " stirs up her young," and encourages them
to use their wings, so, it is said, the mother seals tumble their
babies into the water and give them swimming lessons. When
they are in danger from " rafting " ice, or fragments of floes
dashed about by the wind and likely to crush them, the self-
sacriticing affection of the mothers leads them to brave all
dangers, and they are seen helping their young to places of
safety in the unbroken ice, sometimes clasping them in their
fore-flippers, and swimming with them, or pushing them for-
ward with their noses.

At the end of six weeks, the young shed their white woolly
robe, which has a yellowish or golden lustre, and a smooth,
spotted skin appears, having a rough, darkish fur. They have
now ceased to be " white-coats," and become "ragged -jackets."
The milk on which they are sustained is of a thick, creamy con-
sistency, very rich and nutritious. While the mothers are thus
guarding and suckling their young, the males take the oppor-
tunity of enjoying themselves, and are seen sporting about in
the open pools of water. The old male harps appear to be in-
dift'erent about their young. The male hood seal, on the other
hand, assists his mate in her maternal guardianship, and will
fight courageously in defence of her and the young.

In the seas around Newfoundland and Labrador there are
four species of seals — the bay seal, the harp, the hood, and the
square flipper. The bay seal is local in its habits, does not
migrate, but frequents the mouths of rivers and harbours around
the coast, and is never found on the ice. It is frequently taken
in nets, but, commercially, is of small importance. The harp
seal — 'par excellence, the seal of commerce — is so called from

SEALS.

having a broad curved line of connected dark spots proceeding
from each shoulder, and meeting on the back above the tail,
and forming a figure something like an ancient harp. The old
harp seals alone have this figuring, and not till their second
year.

The hood seal is much larger than the harp. The male, called
by the hunters " the dog-hood," is distinguished from the female
by a singular hood or bag of flesh on his nose. When attacked
or alarmed, he inflates this hood so as to cover the face and eyes,
and it is strong enough to resist seal shot. It is impossible to
kill one of these creatures when his sensitive nose is thus pro-
tected, even with a sealing-gun, so long as his head or his tail
is toward you ; and the only way is by shooting him on the
side of the head, and a little behind it, so as to strike him in
the neck, or the base of the skull.

The square flipper seal is the fourth kind, and is believed to
be identical with the great Greenland seal. It is from twelve
to sixteen feet in length. By far the greatest '* catch " is made
among the young harps, though some seasons great numbers of
young hoods are also taken.

At a time when all other Northern countries are idle and
locked in icy fetters, here is an industry that can be plied by
the fishermen of Newfoundland, and by which, in a couple of
months, a million (and, at times, a million, and a half) of dollars
are won. It is over early in May, so that it does not interfere
with the summer cod-fishery, nor with the cultivation of the
soil. This, of course, greatly enhances its value.*

* " The seal-fishery," writes the Rev. Mr. Percival, for some time Meth-
odist minister at St. John's, Newfoundland, "furnishes us with not a few
illustrations of that firm adhesion to Christian principle which it is impos-
sible, for even the worldly, to gaze upon without admiration. Many of these
stalwart and grim-looking 'swilers' have, in our churches, sat at the blessed
feet of the 'Master,' and learnt lessons from Him. These Christian
principles are often severely tested. For instance, I knew of a case this
spring (and not a few such cases occur every spring), when a Christian cap-
tain was out at the ice after seals. On a bright and beautiful Sabbath
morning, he struck one of those El-Dorados ; hundreds of thousands of seals
surrounded his ship. Other crews about him were busily engaged in taking
them, and his men were impatient also to begin the work of death. Before

MINING.

Newfoundland possesses another considerable source of at-
traction to a certain class of immigrants, and especially to
capitalists, in the shape of its vast mineral deposits. Beyon<l
all question, portions of the island are rich in valuable minerals.
These mines are principally situated in Notre Dame Bay, and
the ore is shipped directly to Swansea. Six or seven mines
have been in operation. According to the testimony of geolo-
gists, the mineral lands exceed five thousand square miles. Up
to 1879, the Tilt Cove mine yielded 50,000 tons of copper ore,
valued at $1,572,154 : and nickel, worth $32,740. A few miles
from Tilt's Cove, another mine was opened in 1875, at Betts'
Cove. By 1879, this latter mine exported 125,556 tons of ore,
valued at $2,982,836. The cut on page 98 shows the busy
scene at the harbour of Betts' Cove, a rich mining region.
Magnetic iron ore has been found, though not as yet in large
masses ; while lead ore has been found in workable quantities.
Coal has also been found in pretty extensive beds. Gypsum is
found in immense developments. Marbles, too, of almost every
shade of colour, occur in various parts of the island; while
granite, of the finest quality, building stone, whetstones, lime-
stones, and roofing-slate, are in ample profusion.

The town of Placentia is situated at the head of a magni-
ficent harbour. The fisheries of cod, herring, and salmon, are
unsurpassed, and the scenery is grandly picture.sque. The
town possesses considerable historic interest, having been
founded by the French in 1660. Notre Dame, Bonavistn,
Trinity, Conception, Fortune, and many another ample bay,
indents the hospitable coast of Newfoundland. •

the close of day, he mi^ht have loaded hia ship with some 960,000 worth of
seals, but he was firm to his Christian principles, and not one seal was taken
by him or any of his crew on the Sabbath day. During the following night a
strong breeze sprang up, and when Monday morning dawned there was
not a seal to be seen anywhere. That same captain retu ned to port with
eighty seals, and yet the brave man said, *I would do the same thing
again next year, sir ! ' Such illustrations of moral heroism the ice-fields
oft present, and every one of them is a sermon of greater eloquence and
power than ever came from the Ups of John the Golden-mouthed."

TRAVEL IN NEWFOUNDLAND.

The chief facilities for travel on the island is thus described
by Dr. Carman.

The railway starts at St. John's, and runs around Conception
Bay, the first of the great bays that gash into the eastern coast
of the island; followed, as it is in order, as you go northward

Betts' Cote, Notbb Dahb Bat, Nbwtoumdland.

by Trinity Bay, Bonavista Bay, Notre Dame, or Green Bay,
and White Bay. Placentia Bay, on the south, almost meets
Trinity on the north and east, nearly cutting off the south-
eastern section for another island. The railway runs west from
the capital, climbing hills and dodging lakes and rocks, twelve
miles to Topsail, one of the prettiest beaches on the island, and
a fashionable watering place; then south, close along the shore,

TRAVEL IN NEWFOUNDLAND,

having; a beautiful view of the bay on the one side, and the
rugged liill, mountain and forest on the other, to Holyrood — a
cozy little place on the slopes and among the rocks in the little
cove at the head of the bay ; then turning here, due north, and
climbing the mountain by a great sweep of engineering skill,

'if . . ■■-'"'

Placbntia.

through wildest, grandest scenery of rocky head and quiet cove,
beetling cliff and yawning gulf, it reaches the wilder plateau
of forest and lake on which it threads its serpentine way, amid
ledges and lagoons, past many coves, to Harbour Grace, its
present terminus ; making the distance from St. John's fully
double what it is across the Point and then across the Bay.

m^f^mm

100

ATLANTIC CABLE,

Harbour Qrace is the second city of Newfoundland, with a
population of seven thousand, on Conception Bay. It has
a fine Roman Catholic cathedral and convent. Carbonear,
three miles distant, has two thousand inhabitants, and Method-
ist and Catholic schools. Fifteen miles across the rugged
peninsula is Heart's Content, on Trinity Bay, a town of nine
hundred inhabitants, amid magnificent scenery. It is best
known to the outside world as the western terminus of the old
Atlantic telegraph cable, the subject of Whittier's fine hymn :

THE ATLANTIC TELEGRAPH CABUB.

0 lonely Bay of Trinity,

Ye bosky shorea uutrod,
Lean breathless to the white-lipped sea,

And hear the voice of God I

From world to world His couriers fly,
Thought-winged and shod with fire \

The angel of His stoimy sky
Rides down the sunken wire.

What saith the herald of the Lord?

The world's long strife is done ;
Close wedded by that mystic cord,

The continents are one.

And one in heart, as one in blood,

Shall all the people be ;
The hands of human brdtherhood

Are clasped beneath the sea.

Through Orient seas, o'er Afric's plain.
And Asian mountains borne,

The vigour of the northern brain
Shall nerve the world outworn.

From clime to clime, from shore to shore,
Shall thrill the magic thread ;

The new Prometheus steals once more
The fire that wakes the dead.

Throb on, strong pulse of thunder I beat
From answering beaoh to beach ;

Fuse nations in thy kindly heat,
And melt the chains of each 1

" OUT-PORTS." 101

Wild terror of the sky alM>vo,

Uliclo turned and dumb below t
Bear gently, Ocean's carrier duve,

Thy errands to and fro.

Weave on. swift shuttle of the Lord,

Beneath the deep so far,
The bridal robe of Earth's accord,

The funeral shroud of war 1

For lo 1 the fall of Ol oan's wall,

Space mocked, and Time outrun;
And round the world the thought of eaoh

It is the thought of one I

The poles unite, the zones agree, ,

The tongues of striving cease ;
As on the Sea of Galilee

The O^rrist is whispering, Peace t

The other T>rincipal "out-ports" of Newfoundland — all the
ports except St. John's are so named — are on the east coast.
Bonavista, an old maritime town of some three thousand inhabi-
tants; Gatalina, with five hundred inhabitants; Qreenspond,
with one thousand inhabitants, on an island so rocky that the
soil for gardens is brought from the mainland; Fogo, an
important port of entry, amid magnificent scenery — ^"a western
iEgean Sea filled with a multitude of isles ; " Twillingate, with
a population of three thousand, situated on two islands, con-
nected by a bridge — noted for its fine breed of almost amphi-
bious Newfoundland dogs; Beits' Gove and Tilt's Gove, in
Notre Dame Bay — famous for copper and nickel mines.

On the south coast are Flacentia, once strongly fortified;
Burin, the finest harbour in Newfoundland, with two thousand
inhabitants; Burgeo, the most important port on the west
shore ; Rose Blanche, in a rocky fiord, and, near by, the Dead
Islands — Les Isles aux Morts — so called from the many wrecks
which have bestrewn their iron coasts.

The French shore is an immense sweep of deeply indented
coast, from Gape Ray around the whole north-west and northern
part of the island to Gape St. John, a distance of four hundteil
miles. It includes the richest valleys and fairest soils of New-

1 •.'•;' . \l ''

102

THE FRENCH SHORE.

foundland. It is nearly exempt from foj;s, borders on the most
prolific fishing grounds, and is called the "Garden of Newfound-
land." By the treaties of 1713, 1763, and 1783, the French
received the right to catch and cure fish, and to erect huts and
stages along this entire coast, — a concession of which they have
availed themselves to the fullest extent. There are several
British colonies along the shore, but they live without law or
magistrates, since the Home Government believes that such
appointments would be against the spirit of the treaties with
France (which practically neutralized the coast).

It is destitute of roads, and has only one short and infrequent
mail-packet route. The only settlements are a few widely
scattered fishing-villages, inhabited by a rude and hardy class
of mariners ; and no form of local government has ever been
established on any part of the shore.

Off the south shore are the islands of St. Pierre and Miquelon,
the sole possessions of France of all her once vast territories in
the New World. The town of St. Pierre, says Mr. Sweetson, is
guarded by about fifty French soldiers, whose presence is
necessary to keep the multitudes of fearless and pugnacious
sailors from incessant rioting. The street, during the spring
and fall, is crowded with many thousands of hardy fishermen,
arrayed in the quaint costumos of their native shores — Normans,
Bretons, Basques, Provincials, and New-Englanders — all active
and alert ; while the implements of the fisheries are seen on
every side. There is usually one or more French frigates in
the harbour, looking after the vast fisheries, which employ
15,000 sailors of France, own 1,000 sail, and return 30,000,000
francs worth of fish.

The Grand Banks of Newfoundland are about fifty miles
east of Cape Race. They consist of vast sandbanks, on which
the water is fi-om thirty to sixty fathoms deep, and are
strewn with shells. Here are found innumerable cod-fish,
generally occupying the shallower waters over the sandy
bottoms, and feeding on the shoals of smaller fish below. Im-
mense fleets are engaged in the fisheries here, and it is estimated
that over 100,000 men are dependent on this industry.

*" ISLES OF J>EMONS."

108

**Far off by stoniiy Liibradur-

Far off tho banks of Newfoundland,
Where the angry seas incessant roar,

And foggy mists their wings expand,
Tho fishing-schuunera, black and low.
For weary months sail to and fro."

In the Strait of Belle Isle are situated the lonely islands
of Belle Isle and Quirpon, of which weird legends are recorded.
They were called the Isles of Demons, and the ancient maps
represent them as covered with " devils rampant, with wings,
horns, and tails." These were said to be fascinating but mali-
cious, and Andrd Thevet exorcised them from a band of
stricken Indians by repeating a part of the Gospel of St.
John. The mariners feared to land on these haunted shores,
and " when they passed this way, they heard in the air, on
the tops, and about the masts, a great clamour of men's voices,
confused and inarticulate, such as you may hear from the
crowd at a fair or market-place ; whereupon they well knew
that the Isle of Demons was not far off."

This desolate island has now a lonely lighthouse — type of
many such amid those stormy seas. The following description
will apply, with little modification, to scores of such solitary
yet beneficent structures.

On its southern point is a lonely lighthouse, four hundred
and seventy feet above the sea, sustaining a fixed white light,
which is visible for twenty-eight miles. During the dense and
blinding snow-storms that often sweep over the strait, a cannon
is fired at regular intervals ; and large deposits of provisions
are kept here for the use of shipwrecked mariners. Between
December loth and April 1st there is no light exhibited, for
these northern seas are then deserted, save for a few daring
.seal-hunters. There is but one point where the island can be
approached, which is one and a half miles from the lighthouse,
and here the- stores are landed. There is not a tree, or even
a bush on the island, and coal is imported from Quebec to
warm the house of the keeper — who, though visited but twice
a year, is happy and contented. The path from the landing
is cut through the moss-covered rock, and leads up a long and

104

NEWFOUNDLAND IN HISTORY.

steep ascent. Hundreds of icebergs may sometimes be seen
hence, moving in stately procession up the strait.

Newfoundland was one of the first discovered portions of the
New World, having been visited by Cabot in 1497, and named
Prima Vista — hence the English designation of Newfoundland.
The rich fisheries of the Grand Banks were soon visited by
hardy Breton, Basque and Norman fishermen. The name of
Cape Breton, found on some of the oldest maps, is a memorial
pf those early voyage^. After the discoveries of the rich har-
vest of the sea, which might be thus gathered, these valuable
fisheries were never abandoned. -As early as 1517, no less than
fifty French, Spanish and Portuguese vessels were engaged in
this industry. The spoils of the ocean from the fisheries of the
New World formed an agreeable addition to the scanty Lenten
fare of the Eoman Catholic countries of Europe.

In 1622, Lord Baltimore organized on the south and east
coast of the island the Province of Avalon, but soon forsook it
for the more genial climate and more fertile soil of Maryland.
Even previous to this time the jurisdiction of the coast was
given to a Britiiih oflScer, Captain Whitburn — ^the first of those
" fishing admirals," as they were called — who " governed the
island from their vessel's deck."

The appointment of those admirals was worthy of the infa-
mous Star Chamber, whence they originated. The law enacted
that the master of the first ship arriving at the fisheries from
England should be admiral of the harbour in which he cast
anchor, and that the masters of the second and third following
vessels were to be vice-admiral and rear-admiral respectively.
These admirals were empowered to " settle all disputes among
the fishermen, and enforce due attention to certain Acts of
Parliament." In their judicial character they would decide
cases according to their caprice ; frequently over a bottle of rum.
As a class, these masters of fishing vessels were rude and ignor-
ant men, and utterly unfit to act in the capacity of judges. Yet
this iniquitous system continued for nearly one hundred years,
when the Home Government was induced to send out a Gover-
nor with a commission, to establish some form of civil govern-
ment. Captain Henry Osborne, of H.M.S. Sqioirrel, was the
first constituted Governor of the island, 1728.

COAST OF LABRADOR.

105

LABRADOR.

As this bleak coast belongs in large part to Newfoundland,
we give here a brief notice abridged from the authorities cited
in Osgood's admirable guide-book to the Maritime Provinces.
This vast region extends through ten degrees of latitude, and
more of longitude — a region larger than the whole of France,
Belgium and Switzerland.

The land is covered with low mountains, and barren plateaus,
on which are vast plains of moss, interspersed with rocks and
boulders. There are no forests, and the inland region is dotted
with lakes and swamps. The rivers and lakes swarm with
fish, and the whole coast is famous for its valuable fisheries of
cod and salmon. At least one thousand decked vessels are
engaged in the Labrador fisheries, and other fleets s.re devoted
to the pursuit of seals. The commercial establishments here
are connected with the great firms of England and the Channel
Islands. The Esquimaux population is steadily dwindling away,
and probably consist of four thousand souls.

"The coast of Labrador," says the Rev. S. Noble, "is the
edge of a vast solitude of rocky hills, split and blasted by the
frost, and beaten by the waves of the Atlantic, for unknown
ages. Every form into which rocks can be washed and broken
is visible along its almost interminable shores.

" It is a great and terrible wilderness of a thousand miles, and
lonesome to the very wild anitaals and birds. Left to the still
visitation of the light from the sun, moon, and stars, and the
auroral fires, it is only fit to look upon, and then be given over
to its primeval solitariness. But for the living things of its
waters — the cod, the salmon, and the seal — which bring thou-
sands of adventurous fishermen and traders to its bleak shores
Labrador would be as desolate as Greenland."

The following spirited verses by Whittier describe the adven-
turous life of the hi:.,^j touers of the sea" who, during the
fishing season, make populous those else lonely shores :

•'Wild are the waves which lash the reefs along St. George's bank;
Odd on the coast of Labrador the fog lies white and dank ;
Through storm, and wave, and blinding mist, stout are the hearts Tvhich man
The fishing-smacks of Marblehead, the sea-boats of Cape Ann.

106

ANTICOSTI.

The cold north light and wintry sun glare on their icy forms,
Bent grimly o'er their straining lines, or wrestling with the storms;
Free as the winds they drive before, rough as the waves they roain,
They laugh to scum the slaver's threat against their rocky home.

Xow, brothers, for the icebergs of frozen Labrador,
I'Moating spectral in the moonshine along the low black shore !
Where like snow the gannet's feathers on Brador's rocks are shed,
And the noisy murr are flying, like black scuds, overhead ;

Where in mist the rock is hiding, and the sharp reef lurks below,
And the white squall lurks in summer, and the autumn tempests blow ;
Where, through gray and rolling vapour, from evening until morn,
A thousand boats are hailing, horn answering unto horn. "

ANTICOSTI.

Though Anticosti belongs to Quebec, we may give it a para-
graph here. It is a very large island, one hundred and eighteen
miles long, and thirty-one wide. " The Anticosti Land Com-
pany," say ; Mr. Sweetser, " have designed to found here a new
Prince Edward Island, covering these peat-plains with pros-
perous farms. The enterprise has, as yet, met with but a
limited success. Anticosti has some woodlands, but it is for the
most parfc covered with black peaty bogs and ponds, with broad
lagoons near the sea. The bogs resemble those of Ireland, and
the forests are composed of low and stunted trees. The shores
are lined with great piles of driftwood and the fragments of
wrecks. The Government has established supply huts along
the shores since the terrible wreck of the Granicus, on the
south-east point, when the crew reached the shore, but could
find nothing to eat, and were obliged to devour each other.
None were saved."

The following is the terrible character given the island by
Eliot Warburton : " The dangerous, desolate shores of Anticosti,
rich in wrecks, accursed in human suffering, this hideous
wilderness has been the grave of hundreds ; by the slowest and
ghastliest of deaths they died — starvation. Washed ashore
from maimed and sinking ships, saved to destruction, they drag
their chilled and battered limbs up the rough rocks; for a

ANTICOSTI.

107

moment, warm with hope, they look around with eager, strain-
ing eyes for shelter — and there is none; the failing sight
darkens on hill and forest, forest and hill, and black despair.
Hours and days waste out the lamp of life, until at length the
withered skeletons have only otrength to die."

id by
licosti,
Ideous
p and
Uhore
drag
I for a

Suspension Bridge, Falls of the St. Johk River, St. John, N.R

i;::r-X.

ATE IV BRUNSWJCK.

109

i^i 'ill,

s»s^l

■-«;

KETV BRUl^SWICK.

THE Province of New Brunswick contains an area of
27,105 square miles. It is a little larger than Holland
and Belgium, and about two-thirds the size of Great Britain.
Its four hundred miles of coast is indented by commodious and
numerous harbours, and it is intersected in every direction by
large navigable rivers. The country is generally undulating.
During the last fifty years over six thousand vessels have been
built in this province ; it is claimed to have more miles of rail-
way, in proportion to its population, than any country in the
world. According to the records of the British army, its
climate is one of unsurpassed salubrity. The fisheries, both of
the Atlantic and the Gulf ports, are of incalculable value, and
give employment to many thousands of hardy mariners. The
lumber industry is carried on on a vast scale on all the rivers,
and reaches, says a competent authority, the value of $4,000,000
a year.

I resume my personal reminiscences at the Missiguash River,
the boundary line between Nova Scotia and New Brunswick,
on the eastern and western banks of which respectively are
situated the ruins of Fort Lawrence and Fort Cumberland.

FORT CUMBERLAND.

Crossing the river I climbed up the steep slope of Fort Cum-
berland, over masses of half -buried squared stones, once form-
ing part of the strong defences. A great crumbling breach in
the ramparts gave unimpeded entrance to a well-constructed
star-shaped fort, w^hose bastions and curtains were still in a
state of remarkably good preservation, and all were turfed
with softest velvet, and in the mellow afternoon light gleamed
like emerald. Grim-visaged war had smoothed his rugged front,

FORT CUMBERLAND.

and the prospect was one of idyllic peace. I paced the ramparts
and gazed upon a scene of rarest beauty. The white-walled
houses and gleaming spires of Amherst and Sackville were about
equidistant on either side. In the foreground were fields
of yellowing grain, and stretching to the landward horizon was
the vast expanse of the deep green Tantramar and Missiguash
marshes — not less, it is said, than 60,000 fertile acres. Look-
ing seaward the eye travels many a league down the blue
waters of the Cumberland Basin. One solitary schooner was
beating up against the wind, and nearer land the white sails of
a few fishing-boats gleamed like the wings of sea-birds seeking
shore. A peculiarity of these marshes was, that they had no
dwelling-houses; but scores on scores of bams were dotted
over their surface, from which many hundred carloads of hay
are shipped every year.

Within the enclosure was a large and dilapidated old wooden
building, apparently once used as ofiicers' quarters. Beside it
was another, which had completely collapsed, like a house of
cards. I crawled into the old casemates and bomb-proofs,
built of large squared stones. Some of these were nearly filled
with crumbling debt'is. In others the arched roofs, seven bricks
in thickness, was studded with stalactites from the drip of over
a hundred years.

At one side of the fort was a large stone powder magazine.
It was about thirty feet square, with walls about four feet
thick. The arched roof, of solid stone, was of immense thick-
ness, and was overgrown with weeds. It seemed actually more
solid than the century-defying Baths of Garacalla at Rome.
Yet the arch was failing in, the walls were cracked as if by
earthquake, and a great hole yawned in the roof. It was
struck, I learned, a few years ago by lightning. A very large
well was near, but an air of disuse and utter desolation rested
upon everythmg.

SACKVILLE TO ST. JOHN.

It was a pleasant walk through shaded roads, and along the
dike side, to the fine old collegiate town of Sackville. One
of the most interesting features of the town is the group of
buildings of the Mount Allison University and Academies.

TANTRAMAR MARSH.

Ill

The Centenary Memorial Hall is a perfect architectural gem,
both within and without ; and the view from the roof of the
Ladies' Academy, of the college campus and groups of build-
ings and their environments is one of never-to-be-forgotten
beauty. I much regret that I could not accept the kind
invitation of Professor Burwash to visit the Joggin's Shore,
where there is probably the finest geological exposure in the
world. In the cliffs, which vary from 130 to 400 feet in height,
may be seen a most remarkable series of coal beds, with their
intervening strata. Eighty-one successive seams of coal have
been fcund, seventy-one of which have been exposed in the sea
cliffs. Sir William Dawson estimates the thickness of the en-
tire carboniferous series as exceeding three miles. Numerous
fossil trees have been found standing at right angles to the
plane of stratification in these coal measures. One trunk was
twenty-five feet high and four feet in diameter.

The isthmus connecting Nova Scotia and New Brunswick is
only about fourteen miles at its narrowest part, and a canal
from Au Lac, near Sackville, to Bale Verte, or perhaps a ship-
railway, would save, in some cases, a navigation of some
hundreds of miles around the peninsula.

The great Tantramar Marsh extends for many a mile its
level floor, like a vast smooth bowling green. The home of
innumerable water fowl, and changing hue with the changes of
the seasons, it is not without its beautiful and poetic aspects,
which have been vividly caught and sketched by Prof. Roberts,
in the following lines of photographic fidelity :

Skirting the sunbright uplands stretches a riband of meadow,
Shorn of the labouring grass, bulwai-ked well from the sea,
Fenced on its seaward border with long clay dikes from the tuibid
Surge and flow of the tides vexing the Westmoreland shores.
Yonder, toward the left, lie broad the Westmoreland marshes, —
Miles on miles they extend, level, and grassy, and dim,
Clear from the long red sweep of flats to the sky in th" distance.
Save for the outlying heights, green-rampired Cumberland Point ;
Miles on miles outrolled, and the river-channels divide them, —
Miles on miles of green, barred by the hurtling gusts.

Miles on miles beyond the tawny bay is Minudie.
There are the low blue hills ; villages gleam at their foet.

112

MONCTON.

Nearer a white sail shines across the water, and nearer

Still are the slim, gray masts of fishing boats dry on the flats.

Ah, how well I remember those wide red flats, above tide-mark

Palu with scurf of the salt, seamed and baked in the sun I

Well I remember the piles of blocks and ropes, and the net reels

Wound with the beaded nets, dripping and dark from the sea 1

Proceeding westward from Sackville, eleven miles, one passes
Dorchester, a pretty town on a rising slope ; its most conspicu-
ous feature being its picturesque-looking penitentiary. The
scenery is of a bolder character as we ascend the right bonk of
the Memramcook River, traversing a prosperous farming region,
occupied by over a thousand Acadian peasants. It is like a bit
of Lower Canada. Across the river is a large Roman Catholic
college, and near it is a handsome stone church. In the railway
car a priest was diligently reading his breviary, and a young girl
without the least self -consciousness was singing a Catholic hymn.

At Painsec Junction, passengers for Prince Edward Island
change cars for Shediac, and Point Du Ch^ne, pleasant villages
on Northumberland Strait.

The train soon reaches the prosperous town of Moncton, the
head-quarters of the Intercolonial Railway. It has a popula-
tion of about seven thousand, and gives abundant evidence of
life and energy. The central offices of the railway present a
very imposing appearance. The town is situated at the head
of navigation of the Petitcodiac River, and affords an oppor-
tunity to see the great " bore " or, tide-wave, for which the
place is famous. When the tide is out, there is only a vast
sloping mud bank on either side. At the beginning of flood-
tide, a wave of water from four to six feet high comes rolling
up the river, and within six hours the stream rises to sixty or
seventy feet.

At Moncton, the St. John branch of the Intercolonial bears oft'
at a right angle from the main line, to the chief city of the
province. It is a ride of three hours, through pleasant but not
striking scenery.

At Salisbury, connection is made with the Albert Railway < a
Hillsboro* and Hopewell, on the lower Petitcodiac. We soon
enter the famous Sussex Valley, a beautiful farming country.

ST. JOHN.

113

The long upland slopes, flooded with the mellow afternoon
lif^ht, formed a very pleasant picture. From Hampton, a
branch railway runs to Quaco, a favourite sea-side resort,
where the red sandstone cliffs rise abruptly three hundred and
fifty feet from the water, commanding a noble view. Continu-
ing on the main line, we soon strike the Kennebecasis River —
the scene of many a famous sculling match — the hills rising on
either side in romantic beauty. The approach to the city of
St. John is exceedingly picturesque. Rich meadows, elegant
villas, and bold hills meet the eye on every side. I never before
saw such stacks of hay. I was told the crop reached four tons
to the acre.

la-

la
ya.

ry.

-^i.7.-^Qffitis^?5e^i3^^*;^..--

ST. JOHN.

The most striking ap-
proach to St. John, how-
ever, is from the sea.
Partridge Island guards
the entrance to the har-
bour, like a stem and
rocky warder. We pass
close to the left, the
remarkable beacon light
shown in our engraving.
At low tide this is an
exceedingly picturesque
object. Its broad base
is heavily mantled with
dripping sea weed, and
its tremendous mass
gives one a vivid idea
of the height and force of the Bay of Fundy tides. Con-
spicuous to the left, is the Martello Tower, on Carleton
Heights, and in front, the many-hilled city of St. John.
Sloping steeply up from the water, it occupies a most com-
manding position, and its terraced streets appear to remark-
able advantage. It looks somewhat, says the author of
"Baddeck," in his exaggerated vein, as though it would slide
8

Beacon Light, St. John Harbour,
AT Low Tide.

NOliU-: SIGHT.

115

off' the steep hillsi<le, if the liouses were not well inortiscil into
the solid rock. It is apparently Imilt on as many hills as Home,
and each of them seems to be crowned with a graceful spire.

Situated at the mouth of one of the largest rivers on the
continent, the chief point of ex])ort and import, and the gruat
distributing centre for a prosperous province, it cannot fail to
be a great city. It is indeed beautiful for situation. Seated
like a (jueen upon her rocky throne, it commands a prospect of
rarely equalled magnificence and loveliness. Its ships are on
all the seas, and it is destined V»y Nature to be, and indeed is
now, one of the great ports of the world. The huge wharves,
rendered necessary by the high ti<les, and the vessels left
.stranded in the mud by their ebb, are a novel spectacle to an
inlander.

There are few more graceful sights than a, large s(|uare-
rigged vessel, swaying, swan-like, in the breeze, and gliding on
her destined way before a favouring breeze. Small wonder
that Charles Dibbin's sea-.songs stir the pulses of the veriest
landsman with a longing for the sea. It must be the old Norse
blood of our viking ancestors that responds to the spell.

Since the great tire of 1877, which swept over two hundred
acres, and destroyed over sixteen hundred houses, its street
architecture has been greatly improved. Stately blocks of brick
and stone have taken the place of the former wooden struc-
tures.

Many of the new buildings are splendid specimens of archi-
tecture. The Custom House is one of which any city might be
proud. The Post Office, the churches, and numerous other
buildings, public and private, cannot fail to evoke admiration.
The city is naturally well adapted to show its buildings to the
best advantage, '^rith its streets wide, straight, and crossing
each other at right angles. A closer inspection does nob
dissipate the first favourable impression, and St. John is voted
a city of noble possibilities and delightful .surroundings.

The new Methodist, Anglican, and Presbyterian churches,
are beautiful stone structures, that would do credit to any city.
The Centenary Church has a noble open roof, and the elaborate
tracery of the windows is all in stone. The stained glass ir

116

TIDE-FALL.

the windows is very fine. It is situated on the highest ground
in the city, and when its magnificent spire is erected will be the
moat conspicuous object in this city of churches.

St. John is essentially a maritime city. Its wharves are
always in demand for shipping, and vast quantities of lumber,
etc., are annually exported to other countries. It is, indeed,
the fourth among the shipping ports of the world, and St. John
ships are found in every part of the seas of both hemispheres.

31^ •* i

Timber Ship, leaving St. John.

Before the introduction of steam, its clipper ships had a fame
second to none, and voyages were made of which the tales are
proudly told even unto this day.

The great tide-fall gives curious effects when the tide is out;
the wharves rise so high above the water-level, and the light-
houses look so gaunt and weird standing upon mammoth
spindle-shanks, or the lofty ribs of their foundations bared to
the cruel air with tags of sea- weed fluttering from their crevices.

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118

OLD FORT.

It is decidedly odd to see the carts drawn down to the market
slip, at low tide, between the stranded market boats that rest
upon their oosy beds.
In the environs of St. John there are several charming

drives. From the Mananoganish Road (the " Mahogany " road,
as it is often called), to reach which you have to cross the
Suspension Bridge, a curious effect is to be experienced. The
Mananoganish runs along the narrow strip of land between the

FORT LA TOUR.

119

river and the sea, near the river's mouth ; and on one side of the
road the St. John, rolling almost at your feet, affords some
lovely glimpses of river scenery, while on the other side of the
road, also at your feet, the Bay of Fundy, with its cliffs and
islands and glistening sails, form a striking seascape with the
lines of the Nova Scotia coast visible forty miles away. This
is one of the most pleasant drives in the country. R turning,
the important suburb of Carleton, which lies across the harbour,
may be visited, and one may see the ruins of Fort La Tour.
Houses are built on this historic ground, and they are not by
any means imposing in their character ; slabs and sawdust are
numerous, and the air is at timet, pervaded with a decided odour
of fish. Such is Fort La Tour to-day ; such is the place where
lived and died " the first and greatest of Acadian heroines — a
woman whose name is as proudly enshrined in the history of
this land as that of any sceptered queen in European story."
The Marsh Road is also a favourite drive, on which one may
go along to Rothsay, on the brow of the bank of the Kenne-
becasis. If one wants to get a comprehensive view of all this
neighbourhood, let him climb the heights of Portland or of
Carlefon; but my selection as a viewing-point would be the old
dismantled fort behind the exhibition building, where, from
the carriage of a King George cannon, you can gaze on city
or bay.

The drives over the rocky hills in the vicinity of St. John
gives land and sea views of surpassing grandeur. One of the
finest of these drives is that to the Suspension and Cantilever
Bridges. These bridges, which combine an airy grace and rigid
strength, cross a rocky gorge, only 450 feet wide, at a height
of a hundred feet above low-water, into which the wide waters
of the St. John are compressed.

The Suspension Bridge was constructed through the energy of
one man, William K. Reynolds. Few besides the projector had
any faith in the undertaking, and he therefore assumed the
whole financial and other responsibility, not a dollar being paid
by the shareholders until the bridge vv^as opened to the public.
In 1875 the bridge was purchased from the shareholders by
the Provincial Government, and is now a free highway. It is

120

FINE BRIDGES.

most impressive to look down upon the swirling, eddying tides,
flecked with snowy foam, and still more so to descend to the
water side, and view the surging current, and, high in air, the
graceful bridges. At low tide there is here a fall in the river
of about fifteen feet. At a certain stage of the tide, and for a
short time only, vessels may sail up or down over these falls,
and rafts, with risky navigation, can be floated into the har-
bour. That these seething eddies are not without dan-
ger was shown by the wreck of a good-sized vessel which lay
on her beam ends as we passed.

The St. John River at Low Tide.

It is curious that in the immediate vicinity of the two. most
remarkable suspension bridges in Canada^those at St. John
and at the Falls of Niagara — have been erected cantilever rail-
way bridges ; thus bringing into strong contrast the varying
principles of these two modes of bridge construction. The
main span of the cantilever bridge over the St. John is 825
feet. It was opened in 1885, and gives direct communication
between the New Brunswick railway system and the vast
system of the United States.

MADAME LA TOUR.

121

^^jgasrt*i^!^---f%i^^;^»*fi^^^2:

Martello Towee.

One of the finest marine views is that from the quaint, old,
feudal-looking Martello tower, on the summit of the highest

hill, on the Carleton
side of the harbour.
It gives a complete
bird's-eye view of
the shipping, and on
the seaward side the
broad Bay of Fundy,
and in the distance
the blue shores of
Nova Scotia, with
the deep gap at the
entrance to the An-
napolis Basin, known as the Digby Gut. I never realized be-
fore the force of Tennyson's fine line —

"The wrinkled sea beneath him crawled,"

till I stood here and watched the broad expanse of wind-swept,
wave-marked water; every gust and flaw leaving its mark
upon the mobile surface.

HISTORIC MEMORIES.

The historic associations of St. John are of fascinating in-
terest. Its settlement dates back to the stormy conflict for
jurisdiction and trading rights of D'Aulnay and La Tour, in
the old Acadian days. The story of La Tour and his heroic
wife is one of the most interesting in the annals of the colonies.
The legend is one of the bits of iiistory in which St. John takes
special pride. Every one knows the story — how Madame, wife
of Charles St. Etienne de la Tour, one of the lords of Acadia,
under the French king, held that fort when it was attacked by
the rival lord of Acadia, D'Aulnay Charnizay, while her hus-
band was absent seeking help from the Puritans of Massachu-
setts ; and how she held it so well and bravely that she re-
pulsed the besieger until the treachery of one of her garrison, a
Swiss, placed her in D'Aulnay 's hands; and how all her garrison,
but the Swiss, were put to death ; and how Madame herself died,

122

U. E. LOYALISTS.

from grief and ill-treatment, in nine days, before her husband
could arrive to her succour. •

The real founding of the present city dates from the close ot
the war of the American Revolution. Liberal provision was
made in the British Colonies for the reception of the U. E.
Loyalist refugees from the United States, and large land-grants
were allotted them. Considerable numbers came to Halifax,
Annapolis, Port Roseway (Shelbume), and other points. The
main body, however, settled near the St. John and Kenne-
becassis rivers. On the 18th of May, 1783, the ships bearing
these exiles for conscience' sake, arrived at the mouth of the
St. John. Here they resolved to found a new Troy, to hew out
for themselves new homes in the wilderness. The prospect
was not a flattering one. The site of the present noble city of
St. John was a forest of pines and spruces, surrounded by a
drearv marsh. The blackened ruins of the old French fort,
together with a block-house, and a few houses and stores, met
their gaze. Before the summer was over, a population of five
thousand persons was settled in the vicinity.

To the new settlement the name of Parrtown was given, in
honour of the energetic Governor of Nova Scotia. Soon the
Loyalists claimed representation in the Assembly of Nova
Scotia. This the Governor opposed, as his instructions pro-
hibited the increase of representatives. The settlers on the St.
John urged that their territory should be set apart as a separate
province, with its own representative institutions. They had
powerful friends in England, and the division was accordingly
made. The Province of New Brunswick was created, and
named in honour of the reigning dynasty of Great Britain, 1784.

In 1785, Parrtown became incorporated as the city of St.
John. It was thus the first, and, for many years the only,
incorporated city in British North America. The first session
of the House of Assembly was held in St. John in 1786, but
two years later, the seat of government was transferred to
Fredericton, eighty-five miles up the St. John River, as being
more central to the province, and in order to secure immunity
from hostile attack and from the factious or corrupting in-
fluence of the more populous commercial metropolis St. John.

RIVER SCENES.

123

THE ST. JOHN RIVER.

The River St. John is navigable for steamers of large size
for eighty-five miles from the sea to Fredericton. Above
Fredericton smaller steamers ply to Woodstock, about seventy
miles farther ; and when the water is high, make occasional
trips to Tobique, a farther distance of fifty miles ; sometimes
reaching Grand Forks, a distance of two hundred and twenty
miles from the sea, with a break at the Grand Falls. This
noble river, with its branches, furnishes 1,300 miles of
navigable waters. At Fredericton it is larger than the Hudson
at Albany. It floats immense quantities of timber to the sea,
some of which is cut within sound of the guns of Quebec.

There can be nothing finer than the short trip up the river
from St. John on one of the day-boats that ply to Fredericton.
You embark at Indiantown, above the rapids, and sail out into
the stream, moving past a high overhanging clift', fir-crowned,
with limekilns nestling snugly on little beaches at its base.
There is a keen breeze, cool even when the thermometer is in
the nineties in the city. The boat is lively with a mixed com-
pany of passengers, bound for any landing stage or station be-
tween Indiantown and Grand Falls, or even Edmunston — for
the river is a favourite route, as far as it is available — to all
points in the neighbouring interior.

The St. John is a lordly river, almost as fine in scenic effect
as either the Hudson or the Rhine. It winds among its some-
times high, sometimes undulating, banks, through scenes of
majestic beauty. The land is mostly densely wooded, the foliage
of pine and larch and fir and maple waving gently in the breeze,
and everywhere the predominant pine and fir strongly mark-
ing the Canadian contour of the forests. Peaceful banks they
are, with here and there a quiet homestead reposing among
their curves, and here and there a rustic- looking lighthouse out
on a point, warning of shallows.

Fredericton, the capital, is pleasantly situated on the left
bank of the St. John. Its wide, elm-shaded streets, its large
and imposing Methodist church, its beautiful Christ Church
cathedral, its low rambling Parliament buildings, its sub-

124

FREDERICTON.

stantial free-stone University, commanding a beautiful out-
look of the winding river — these are a pleasant memory
to the present writer. In company with the late Lieutenant

Governor Wilmot — one of the most brilliant orators and
statesmen New Brunswick ever produced — I visited the
many places of interest in the city, and was hospitably en-
tertained in his elegant home. Of scarce less interest was the
drive to Marysville, on the right bank of the river, the seat of

THE UPPER ST. JOHN.

125

the great mills of Mr. Gibson, the " lumber king " of New
Brunswick. The octagonal Methodist church, beautifully
grained; carved, frescoed and gilt, with stained glass lantern
and windows— an exquisite architectural gem — is the free gift
of Mr. Gibson to the Methodist denomination. The com-
fortable homes erected for his workmen, and the high moral
tone of the village make this an ideal community.

It was a beautiful day in August, 1887, on which I made the
trip over the New Brunswick Railway from St. John to the
Grand Falls, a distance of one hundred and seventy miles. The
first part of the journey, after leaving the river, leads through
a dreary and monotonous region. The route via McAdam
Junction traverses a succession of dead or dying forests,
occasional clearings bristling with stumps, and stretches of tire-
swept trees. On reaching Woodstock, however, the change
was like one from Purgatory to Paradise. Bold wooded bluffs,
fertile fields of yellowing grain, and apple-laden orchards
delighted the eye and mind. The ride from Woodstock onward
was one of ideal loveliness. In the first place, for most of the way
the train was on the right side of the river, that is the side facing
the sun. It makes a vast difference whether one looks at a
landscape in direct or reflected light. In the former case the sun's
rays light up the grass and foliage with a vivid, living green.
In the latter case everything is of a much more subdued and
dull colour.

The views across the winding river, dimpling and sparkling
in long and shining reaches, with a noble back-ground of slop-
ing uplands, fertile fields, and comfortable-looking farmsteads,
presented a picture long to live in the memory. Woodstock,
Florenceville, and Tobique are pleasant towns upon the noble
river, with many lesser villages and hamlets. On we wound
on a shelf so high up on the river bank that we could in places
follow its windings for miles, crossing lofty trestles and catch-
ing brief glimpses of narrow glens between the hills, of quaint
little mills and sequestered nooks where, through the loop-
holes of retreat, one might undisturbed behold the busy world
go by.

126

THE GRAND FALLS.

GRAND FALLS OF THE ST. JOHN.

As one approaches the Grand Falls the country becomes
wilder and more rujifged and more sterile. Here, in what I thought
would be a sort of Ultima Thule of civilization, I found a com-
fortable hotel with electric bells and all the modern improve-
ments. The Grand Falls far surpassed in size and sublimity
anything that I had anticipated. There is below the Falls a wild
and lonely gorge, worn during the long, slow ages by the
remorseless tooth of the cataract. It seemed as solitary as
some never-before-vi.sited ravine of the primeval world. Here
I found great " pot-holes," which I estimated roughly at forty
feet deep and twelve feet across, worn by the pounding and
scouring of big boulders under the action of the torrent. Sel-
dom have I seen such contorted, folded, twisted, tortured strata,
rising in places in buttressed cliffs from one hundred to two
hundred and forty feet high. The lines of cleavage were very
marked, and the resultant disintegration gave the ruck the ap-
pearance of remarkable cyclopean a'rchitecture.

Just below there was a huge log-jam which must await
the next freshet before it could be released. Every now and
then another bruised and battered log would go sweeping down
the arrowy rapids, writhing like a drowning man in his death-
struggle. The pines and spruces and shivering aspens clung to
the rocky wall and peered over the top of the cliff, whilst the
thunder of waters seemed to make the soHd rock to reel, and
a rich saffron sunset filled the sky. In this gorge the darkness
rapidly deepened, and a feeling of desolation, almost of terror,
made me glad to get away.

The view of the Falls themselves, from the graceful suspen-
sion bridge thrown across their very front, was almost more
impressive. Pale and spectral, like a sheeted ghost in the
gathering darkness, they gleamed ; and all night I could hear,
when I woke, their faint voice calling from afar. I have
before me a photograph of a great log-jam which took place
here a few years ago. The yawning gorge was filled up to the
very top of the Fall, fifty-eight feet high, and for a long dis-
tance, probably half a mile, below. The jam lasted a week, and
then was swept out in ten minutes with a rise of the waters.

GRAND MAN AN.

127

he
is-
nd

The railway goes on to Edmunslon, forty miles fartner,
through a country peopled chiefly by Acadian French. They
are mostly engaged in lumbering and in farming the fertile
"intervales" by the river side. Every little village has its
group of quaint, old houses, and its large Roman Catholic
church. The river is here the boundary line between New
Brunswick and Maine, and the Canadian and American villages
face each other on its opposite banks. Few persons have any
conception of the vast extent of forest on the headwaters
of this great river — an extent seven times larger than that of
the famous Black Forest in Germany. It is about seventy
miles from Edmunston to Riviere du Loup, through a wild and
rugged country, the very paradise of the devotees of the rod
and gun.

The ravenous saw mills in this pine wilderness are not unlike
the huge dragons that used in popular legend to lay waste the
country ; and like dragons, they die when their prey, the lordly
pines, are all devoured. Returning from the Grand Falls I had
to get up at 3.15 on a dark and rainy morning to take the
" Flying Bluenose '* train /w^hich intercepts the " Flying Yan-
kee " from Bangor, and reaches St. John about mid-after-
noon.

Tourists in search of the picturesque should not fail to take the
trip from St. John to Possamaquoddy Bay and the Grand Manan
Island. The magnificent sea -worn, richly-coloured cliffs of
Grand Manan rising abruptly to the height of from three hun-
dred to four hundred feet, are at once the rapture and despair of
the artist. The quaint border towns of St. Andrew's and St.
Stephen's present many features of interest which well repay a
visit. St. Stephen's, at the head of navigation on the St. Croix
River, is a thriving town of some six thousand inhabitants,
and is connected by a covered bridge with Calais, an American
town of similar size. The people have always preserved
international friendship, even during the war of 1812-14.

Still more striking in its picturesqueness of aspect is the bold
scenery — the great bays and towering headlands — of the Gulf
coast.

188

GREAT RIVERS.

THE aULF COAST.

The great rivers on the Gulf coast are: the Miramichi,

navigable for vessels of 1,000 tons for twenty-five miles from

its mouth, for schooners twenty miles farther, and above this

point it is farther navigable for sixty miles for tow-boats ; and

The Cliffs— Grand Manan.

the Restigouche, a noble river three miles wide
at its mouth at the Bay of Chaleurs, and
navigable for large vessels for eighteen miles.
This river and tributaries drain about 4,000
miles of territory, abounding in timber and
other valuable resources.

FOKKST J-/RICS.

129

*>..

To reach this region we return to the main line of the Inter-
colonial Railway at Moncton. Kor some distance west of
Moncton the railway traverses an uninteresting country, cross-
ing the headwaters of the Richilmcto River, at some distance
from the flourishing fishing villages and tine farming settle-
ments on the Gulf coast. At Newcastle it crosses the two
branches of the Miramichi, on elegant iron bridges, each over
1,200 feet long. On these bridges nearly SI, 000,000 was spent,
much of it in seeking, in the deep water, foundations for the
massive piers. In any other country the Miramichi, flowing
two hundred miles from the interior, would be thought a large
river, but here it is only one among a numVior of such. Its
upper regions have never been fully explored. They are still
the haunt of the moose, caribou, deer, bear, wolf, fox, and
many kind of smaller game ; while the streams abound in the
finest fish.

In 1825 the Miramichi district was devastated by one of
the most disastrous forest fires of which we have any record.
A long drought had parched the forest to tinder. For two
months not a drop of rain had fallen, and the streams were
shrunken to rivulets. Numerous fires had laid waste the
woods and farms, and filled the air with stifling smoke. The
Government House at Fredericton was burned. But a still
greater calamity was impending. On the 7th of October, a
storm of flame swept over the country for sixty miles — from
Miramichi to the Bay of Chaleurs. A pitchy darkness covered
the sky, lurid flames swept over the earth, consuming the forest,
houses, barns, crops, and the towns of Newcastle and Douglas,
with several ships upon the stocks. Resistance was in vain
and escape almost impossible. The only hope of eluding the
tornado of fire was to plunge into the rivers and marshes ; and
to cower in the water or ooze till the waves of flame had passed.
The roar of the wind and fire, the crackling and crashing of
the pines, the bellowing of the terrified cattle, and the glare of
the conflagration were an assemblage of horrors sufficient to
appal the stoutest heart. When that fatal night had passed,
the thriving towns, villages and farms over an area of five
thousand square miles were a charred and blackened desolation.
9

130

"BAY OF HEATS."

A million dollars' worth of accumulated property was con-
aiumed, and the loss of timber was incalculable. One hundred
and sixty persons perished in the flames or in their efforts to
escape, and hundreds were maimed for life. The generous aid
of the sister provinces, and of Great Britain and the United
States, greatly mitigated the sufferings of the hapless inhabi-
tants, made homeless on the eve of a rigorous winter.

Bathurst is a pretty town on the Nepisiguit River, whose
rapids and falls, 140 feet h'gh, are well worth a visit. The
shooting of saw-logs over the falls, is an exciting scene. A
large business is done in shipping salmon on ice. The rail-
way now runs through a well-settled and beautiful country,
with a number of neat villages of French origin — Petite Roche,
Belledune, Jaquet River, and others.

BAY OF CHALEURS.

Soon we strike the magnificent Bay of Chaleurs — one of the
noblest havens and richest fishing grounds in the world —
ninety miles long and from fifteen to twenty -five miles wide.
I could not help thinking of that first recorded visit to this
lonely bay, three hundred and fifty years ago, when Jacques
Cartier, with Ms two small vessels, entered its broad expanse
and found the change from the cold fogs of Newfoundland to the
genial warmth of this sheltered bay so grateful that he gave it
the name of the Bay of Heats, which it bears to this aay. The
Indian name, however, "Bay of Fish," was still more appro-
priate. These waters are yearly visited by great fleets of
American fishermen from Gloucester and Cape Ood. We in
the West have little idea of the value of the harvest of the sea
in those maritime provinces, where it is often the best, or, in-
deed, the only harvest the people gather. It was in these
waters that the misdeed of Skipper Ireson, commemorated as
follows by Whittier, found its scene :

" Small pity for him ! — He sailed away
From a leaking ship in Chaleur Bay,—
Sailed away from a sinking wreck,
With his own townspeople on her deck I
' Lay by 1 lay by ! ' they called to him ;
Back he answered, ' Sink or swim 1

SKIPPER IRESON. 131

Brag of your catcli of fish again ! '
And off he sailed through the fog and rain.
Old Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart,
Tarred and feathered and carried in a cart
By the W(jr.ien of Marblehead.

•' Fathoms deep in dark Chaleur
That wreck shall lie forevermore.
Mother and sister, wife and maid.
Looked from the rocks of Marblehead
Over the moaning and rainy sea, —
Looked for the coming that might not be 1
Wljat did the winds and the sea-birds say
Of tho ci lel captain that sailed away ? —
Old Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart,
Tarred and leathered and carried in a cart
By the women of Marblehead."

For many miles the railway runs close to the shore o*^ this
noble bay, its blue waters sparkling in the sun,

And like the wings of the sea birds
Flash the white-caps of the sea.

Around the numerous fishing hamlets in the foreground lay
boats, nets, lobster-pots and the like ; and out in the offing
gleamed the snowy sails of the fishing boats. A. branch rail-
way runs down the bay to Dalhousie, a pleasant seaside town
backed by noble hills. Dalhousie is a convenient point of de-
parture if one wishes to visit the famous land of Gasp<^, for
from it a steamer runs twice a week and calls at grand sport 'ng
places on the way. If one has a taste to visit Anticosti, h° will
find packets at Gasp^ to take hiin there, or should he desire to
see the quaint regions of the Magdalen Islands, he can easily get
there from Faspebiac. As the bay narrows into the estuary of
the Restigouche, the scenery becomes bolder and iiiore majestic.
Lest I should be accused of exaggerating its grandeur, I quote
the opinions of two other tourists :

THE RESTiaOUCHE.

" To the person approaching by steamer from the sea, is pre-
sented one of the most superb and fascinating panoramic v iews
in Canada. The whole region is mountainous, and almost pre-

CAMPBELLTON.

133

cipitous enough to be Alpine ; but its grandeur is derived less
from cliffs, chasms, and peaks, than from far-reaching sweeps
of outline, and continually rising domes that mingle with the
clouds. On the Gaspt^ side precipitous cliffs of brick-red sand-
stone flank the shore, so lofty that they seem to cast their
gloomy shadows half-way across the bay, and yawning with
rifts and gullies, through which fretful torrents tumble into the
sea. Behind them the mountains rise and fall in long undula-
tions of ultramarine, and, towering above them all is the
famous peak of Tracadiegash flashing in the sunlight like a
pp,le blue amethyst."

' Th.> expanse of three miles across the mouth of the Resti-
; ' A he, the dreamy Alpine land beyond, and the broad plain of
t!ie Lay of Chaleur, present one of the most splendid and fasci-
nnting panoramic prospects to be found on the continent of
America, and has alone rewarded us for the pilgrimage we have
made."

What a splendid panorama is enjoyed day by day by the oc-
cupants of the lonely farm-houses on the far hills looking over
the majestic bay.

Campbellton, an important railway and shipping point, is
situated at the head of deep water navigation. The river is
here a mile wide, and at its busy mills Norwegian vessels were
loading wi^Vi deals for British ports. Its situation is most ro-
mantic, V>rv t!\ ory side rise noble forest-clad hills, with far-
recedim, ,:^^^.<^ and valleys, winding into the distance — like
the mounl.u.iJ:; i Wales, said my travelling companion. As I
went to churcii ; ?. Sunday night the scene was irost impressive.
The solemn hills beguarded the town on every sii^o, w^aiting j,s
if for the sun's last benediction on their heads. The saffron .sky
deepened in tone to golden and purple. Twilight ;bj,dows
filled the glens and mantled over sea and .'»hore. I could not
help thinking, if you take the church spires and the religious
life thr^ represent out of our Canadian villages what a blank
you v.!^uid leave behind. How sordid and poor and mean the
life am: -wT.ht of the people would be. How narrow their
horizon, how merely animal their lives.

At Mission Point, across the river, is an Indian reservation.

: •■

134

MOUNTAIN VIEW.

with a population of five hundred Micmacs, and a Roman
Catholic church. At Campbellton is one of the cosiest inns I
have seen, not pretentious, but clean and comfortable. From
the neat dining-room one may look out of the window into the
tide-water, ebbing and flowing beneath it, where the fresh sal-
mon on the table may have been disporting a few hours before.
One never knows the true taste of salmon till he eats it fresh
from the sea in these tide waters. It is better even than the
famous Fraser River salmon of British Columbia.

The Resti-
gouche is one of
the great sal-
mon streams of
the world, and
is a popular re-
sort, during the
season, of the
devotees of the
" gentle craft "
from the chief
cities of Canada
and the United
States.

Before one
departs from
Campbellton he
should, if possi-
ble, climb Sugar
Loaf Mountain,
eight hundred
feet high, which
seems attrac-
tively near. The path is very steep and rugged, but the view
from the summit well repays the elfort. One can trace the
windings of the Restigouche up and down among the hills for
many miles. Here I saw the splendid spectacle of the approach
of a thunderstorm across the valley. The sun was shining
brilliantly everywhere except in the track of the storm. It

Sugar Loaf Mountain, Campbellton, N.B.

OLD SAWMILL.

135

was grand to watch its approach, but when it wrapped one
in its wet and cold embrace, it rather threw a damper over
the fun. The trees were soon dripping — and so was I. I got
down rather demoralized as to my clothes, but having laid up
a memory of delight as an abiding possession.

The Restigouche, from its mouth to its junction with the
Metapedia, is the boundary line between New Brunswick and
Quebec. For over twenty miles above Campbellton we follow
its winding way between forest-clad hills. Before we cross the
border at Metapedia we will pause for a general glance at the
great province on which we are about to enter.

he
:or
,ch

ng
It

:''Vi;^'rr.^.:-^'

QUEBKC,

From the Citadel.

A Sketch math by Iler ]lo;ial Iliijk-

itess the PriiiccM Louise '*

QUEBEC.

137

^r^j^

QUEBEC.

THIS province combines, in an unusual degree, magnificent
scenery, romantic interest, and thrilling historical asso-
ciations. It covers an area of 210,000 square miles, and is as
large as Norway, Holland, Portugal and Switzerland taken
together. The soil of much of this immense area is capable of
high cultivation, but a considerable portion of it is rocky and
infertile. In the cultivable regions the cereal grasses, root
crops, and many of the fruits of the temperate zones grow in
abundance and to perfection. In the southern parts of the
province Indian corn is a large crop, and fully ripens. Toma-
toes grow in profusion, and ripen, as do also many varieties of
grapes. Quebec has vast tracts of forest land and a very large
lumber trade. It is rich in minerals, including gold, silver,
copper, iron, plumbago, etc., and has, especially, immense deposits
of phosphate of lime, but it has no coal. It has large deposits
of valuable peat. Its fisheries are of immense extent, and
, are amongst the most valuable in the world.

The Province of Quebec is rich in minerals. Gold is found
in the district of Beauce and elsewhere. Copper abounds in
the Eastern Townships, and iron is found in many places.
Some very rich iron mines are being worked. Lead, silver,
platinum, zinc, etc., are found in abundance. The great deposits
of phosphate of lime, particularly in the Ottawa Valley, have
been already alluded to. These mines have been largely
worked, and large quantities of the phosphate have been ex-
ported. This mineral brings a high price in England, owing
to its high percentage of purity.

We will examine in detail the different parts of the province,
and will now proceed on our journey up the Metapedia Valley.
The junction of this river with the Restigouche presents one of
the most attractive scenes in the province. A bridge a thou-

If:

138

F/SH STORIES.

sand feet lon^ spans the larger river which we have been
following, commanding exquisite views both up and down.
Crossing this we enter the Province of Quebec.

THE METAPEDIA.

The Matapedia is said to be the finest salmon stream in the
world. At the railway station numerous sportsmen with their
hats wonderfully garnished with artificial flies, groups of
Indians and canoes, arid abundance of fishing gear indicate the
principal industry, if such it can be called, of the place. Though
no sportsman, I could appreciate as well as the best of them the
delicious, firm, flakey salmon and sweet wild strawberries which
were served up to the hungry travellers in the dining hall.

Mill Stream, Metapedia, Que.

A club of wealthy New Yorkers have built at Metapedia an
elegant club house, and hold a fishing lease on the river. I do
not profess to be an authority on fish stories, but it is oflScially
stated that salmon of from forty to fifty pounds and trout of
seven pounds are not uncommon. At Mill Stream, two men in
a single day secured nearly two hundred and fifty pounds of
trout, each trout averaging four pounds in weight. On the
Causapscal, a tributary stream, the Princess Louise caught a
forty pound salmon. I confess to a greater enjoyment of the
romantic scenery than of the craft of fishing. Here the sense
of beauty finds full gratification. The word Metapedia means,
it is said, "musical waters," and the river well deserves its name.
It has no less than two hundred and twenty-two rapids, great

140

LAKE METAPEDiA.

and small, "now swift and deep, now gently rippling over beds of
shining gravel and golden sand." For over fifty miles we follow
its winding course, through green valleys as solitary almost,
save for the passing train, as those of a primeval world. The
bordering hills are not very high nor bold, but they present an
ever-varying and pleasing outline. Acres on acres of purple
bloom, with here and there patches of golden rod, fill the.
valleys, and the ever present pine and spruce and aspens
clothe the shaggy slopes.

Lake Metapedia, the fountain-
head of the river which bears the
same name, is thus described : — " It
is the noblest sheet of inland water
seen along the route. All lakes
have a beauty which appeals to the
imaginative minds, but this en-
shrined among the mountains must
impress the most prosaic
nature. About sixteen
miles in length, and
stretching out in
parts to the width of
live miles, its ample
area gives it a dig-
nity with which to
wear its beauty.
Embosomed on its
tranquil waters lie
isles rich in verdure,
while shores luxuriant with Nature's bounty make a fitting
frame to so fair a picture. He who has told us of Loch
Katrine could sing of this lake that

' In all her length far winding lay,
With promontory, creek and bay,
And islands that, empurpled bright,
Floated amid the lovelier light ;
And mountains like that giants stand
To sentinel enchanted land.'"

On tue CATrsAPSCAt,, QoB.

ABORIGINAL POETRY.

141

The names of the lakes and streams of the old Micmao
hunting ground are a philological study. Even 'as softened
down by English use they are far less musical than the names
given by the western and southern tribes on this continent.
We find nothing as soft for instance as the names Ontario,
Niagara, Toronto, Tuscarora, Ohio, Susquehanna, Alabama, and
the like. Some ingenious poet has endeavoured to weave the
sesquepedalian names into a "spring poem," as follows:

Hail Metapediac ! Upon thy shore
The Souriquois may sweet seclusion seek ;
Cadaraqui distracts his thoujjhts no more,
Nor seeks he gold from Souleamuagadeek.

Hail Restigouche and calm Causapscal,

Tartagu, Tobegote and Sayabec,

Amqiii, Wagansis, Peske-Ammik — all

The scenes which Nature doth with glory deck.

At Assametquaghan and at Upsalquitch
The busy beaver builds his little dam ;
His sisters, cousins, and his aunts grow rich
At Patapediac and Obstchquasquam.

I've wandered by the Quatawamkedgwick,
The Madawaska and the famed Loostook,
The Temiscouata, Kamouraska, Bic ;
I've climbed the hill of VVoUodadainook.

And everywhere do thoughts of spring arise,
Till this Algonquin doth an ode produce.
Hail, brother Mareschitos und Abnakicsl
Hail, balmy mouth of Amusswikizoos!

Gachepe and Kigicapigiok —
But here the powers of the language broke down.

THE ST. LAWRENCE.

We now pass over a sufficiently dreary region till we come
to the watershed of the St. Lawrence. No country in the
world is approached by so majestic a waterway as the Province
of Quebec. It is hard to say wh§re the ocean ends and the
"great river of Canada," as Champlain calls it, begins. "It

A NOliLE RIVER.

has its origin," says Moreau, "in a remarkable spring far up in
the woods, called Lake Superior, 1,500 miles in circumference,
and several other springs there are thereabout that feed it."
These comprise about one half of all the fresh wa^er on the
globe. Draining half a continent it pours its flood over the
mcst remarkable cataract and series of rapids in the world.
For 440 miles from Lake Ontario to Quebec it will average
about two miles in width, thence it gradually widens for 400
miles to what may be considered its mouth, to a breadth of 96
miles between Cape Rosier and Labrador. The tide is felt up
as far as Three Rivers, a distance of 430 miles. The majestic
cliffs on either shore form a worthy portal to this grandest of
rivers. Small wonder that its vastncss, and its stirring historic
memories awake the enthusiasm of the chivalrous race that
dwells upon its shores and call forth its poetic tribute:

*< Salut, 6 ma bolle patrie t
Salut, 6 bords du Saint- Laurent
Terre que I'^tranger envie,
Et qu'il rogrette en la quittant.
Heureux qui pent passer sa vie,
Toujours tidMe k te aevir ;
Et dans tes bras, m^re ch^rie,
Peut rendre son dernier soupir."

Mr. J. M. LeMoine, in his " Chronicles of the St. Lawrence,"
quotes appropriately the following noble tribute to this noble
river: — "There is in North America a mighty river, having
its head in remote lakes, which, though many in number, are
yet so great that one of them is known as the largest body of
fresh water on the globe, — with a flow as placid and pulseless
as the great Pacific itself, yet as swift in places as the average
speed of a railway train. Its waters are pure and azure-hued,
no matter how many turbid streams attempt to defile them. It
is a river that never knew a freshet, nor any drying-up, no
matter how great the rain or snowfall, or how severe he
drought on all its thousand miles of drainage or of flow — and
yet that regularly, at stated intervals, swells and ebbs within
certain limits, as surely as the spring tides each year ebb and
flow in the Bay of Fundy — a river so rapid and yet so placid

GULF OF ST, LA WRENCE,

143

as to enchant every traveller — so jyrancl and yet so lovingly
beautiful as to enthral every appreciative soul, — which rises in
a great fresh-water sea, and ends in the greater Atlantic — some
places sixty miles wide, at others less than a mile — a river that
never has yet had a respectable history, nor scarcely more than
an occasional artist to delineate its beauties. It lies, for a
thousand miles, between two great nations, a river as grand as
the La Plata, as picturesque as the Rhine, as pure as the lakes
of Switzerland. Need we say that this wonderful stream is
the St. Lawrence, the noblest, the purest, most enchanting river
on all God's beautiful earth."

Running far out to sea is the great peninsula of Qaspd, with
bold and rugged capes ond deep and quiet bays. " Cape
Despair," says Mr. Sweetser, "was named by the French Gaip
d'Eapoir, or Cape Hope, and the present name is either an
Anglicized pronunciation of this French word, or else was -^iven
in memory of the terrible disaster of 1711. During that year
Queen Anne sent a great fleet, with 7,000 soldiers, with orders
0 capture Quebec and occupy Canada. The fleet was under
Admiral Sir Hovenden Walker, and the army was commanded
by General Hill. During a black fog, on the 22nd of August,
a violent storm arose and scattered the fleet in all directions,
hurling eight large ships on the terrible ledges of Egg Island and
Cape Despair, where they were lost with all on board. Frag-
ments of the wrecks, called Le Naufrage Anglais, were to be
seen along the shores until a recent date ; and there was a wild
superstition among the fishermen to the effect that sometimes,
when the sea was quiet and calm, vast white waves would roll
inward from the Gulf, bearing a phantom ship crowded with
men in ancient military costumes. An officer stands on the
bow, with a white-clad woman on his left arm, and as tho
maddened surge sweeps the doomed [ship on with lightning
speed, a tremendous crash ensues, the clear, agonized cry of a
woman swells over the great voice of despair, — and naught is
seen but the black cliffs and the level sea."

"Perce Rock," continues this writer, "is 288 feet high, rising
precipitously from the waves, and is about 500 feet long.
This citadel-like cliff is pierced by a lofty arch, through which

144

PERCE ROCK.

the long levels of the sea are visible. Small boats some-
times traverse this weird passage, under the immense Gothic
arch of rock. There was formerly another tunnel near the
outer point of the Rock, but its roof fell in with a tremendous
crash, and left a great obelisk rising from the sea beyond.

"The summit of the Percd ^l,ock covers about two acres,
and is divided into two great districts, one of which is inhabited
by gulls, and cormorants dwell on the other. If either of
these trespasses on the other's territory (which occurs every
fifteen minutes, at least), a bjottle ensues, th( shrill cries of
hundreds or thousands of birds rend the air, great clouds of
combatants hover over the plateau, and peace is only restored
bv the retreat of the invader, When the conflict is between
.arge flocks it is a scene worthy of close notice, and sometimes
becomes highly exciting."

FIRST EXPLORATiON OF THE ST. LAWRENCE.

The lofty headland of Gasp^ tovvers 700 feet above the
waves. Here landed Jacques Gartier in the sultry midsummer
of 1534, and reared a huge cross bearing the lily shield of
France, and took possession of the country in the name of his
soverei ^n, Francis I. Learning from the natives of the great
river, leading so far into the interior that " no man had ever
traced it to its source," he sailed up the Gulf of St. Lawrence
till he could see the land on either side. The season being
advanced, he resolved to return, postponing further exploratiorx
till the following summer.

On Whit-Sunday, 1535, Cartier ai.d his companions rever-
ently attended h\<?h mass in the v<!nerable cathedral of St.
Malo. In the religious spirit of the age they received the Holy
Sacrament, and the bonediction of the bishop upon their under-
taking. The little squadron, dispersed by adverse winds, did
not reach the mouth of the St. Lawrence till the middle of
July. On the 10th of August, the festival of St. Lawrence,
Cartier entered a small bay, to which he gave the name of the
saint, rinee extended to the entire gulf and river. Passing the
gloomy gorge of the Saguenay, and sailing on beneath lofty
blutt's jutting out into the broad river, on the 7th of September

FOOTPRINTS OF FRENCH PIONEERS.

145

he reached the Island of Orleans, covered with wild grapes,
which he therefore named Isle of Bacchus. Seven days after,
having resolved to winter in the country, the little squadron
dropped anchor at the mouth of the St. Charles, where stood
the Indian town of Stadacona, beneath the bold clitf now
crowned with the ramparts of Quebec.

Eager to explore the noble river, Cartier advanced with fifty
men in his smallest vessel. Arrested by a sand-bar at Lake St.
Peter, ho took to his boats, with thirty of his companions, and
pressed onward, watching with delight the ever-shifting land-
scape of primeval forest, now gorgeous with autumnal foliage,
and the stately banks of the broad, swift river. On the 2nd of
October, he reached the populous Indian town of Hochelaga,
nestling beneath the wood-crowned height to which he gave
the name of Mont Royal, now Montreal.

Having ascended the neighbouring mountain, Cartier and his
companions surveyed the magnificent panorama of forest and
river stretching to the far horizon — a scene now studded with
towns and spires, farms and villages, and busy with the
thousand activities of civilized life. From the natives he
learned the existence, far in the west and south, of inland seas,
broad lands, and mighty rivers — an almost unbroken solitude,
X ^t destined to become the abode of great nations. Returning
to Quebec, the French prepared, as best they could, for the
winter, which proved of unusual severity. Scurvy of a malig-
nant type appeared. By the month of April, twenty-six of the
little company had died and were buried in the snow. The cruel
winter slowly wore away, and when the returning spring
released the imprisoned ships, the energetic commandc' re-
turned to France.

All over the continent, from the mouth of the St. Lavvrence
to the mouth of the Mississippi, the adventurous French pioneers
and explorers have left their footprints in the names of all the
saints in the calendar, bestowed on cape, and lake, and river and
mountain. On this historic shore, for instance, we have Capes
Ste. Madeleine, Ste. Anne, St. Paul, St. Felicitd, L'Assomption,
Ste. Flavie, St. Fabien, St. Ondsime, Ste. Marguerite, St. Denis,
St. Paschal, St. Pacome, St. Jean, St. Roch, St. Ignace, St.

146

GRAND AND PETIT METIS.

Michel, St. Francois, St. Anselin, St. Joachim, L'Ange Gardien,
and many another holy name.

On the rocky shores of the Lower St. Lawrence are a large
number of fishing villages, in the rear of which a meagre agri-
culture is carried on. Further up we reach a number of

Gband and Petit Metis.

pleasant and popular summer bathing resorts. These are much
frequented by families from Quebec and Montreal, and even
from Toronto and places farther west. One of the first and
most attractive of these is Little Mdtis, reached by a drive of
six miles from the Intercolonial railway.

OLD WORLD CHARACTERISTICS.

147

The Grand and Little Mentis rivers offer attractive scenery
and picturesque waterfalls*. We are now in the heart of the
French country, which stretches from Gaspd to Beauharnois.
The aspect of the villages, and the daily life of the people, are
more like that of the Old World than anything else on this
continent. It is often far easier to fancy one's self in the
Breton or Picardy of the seventeenth century, than in the
plain, prosaic Canada of the nineteenth. The wayside crosses
and shrines, and the numerous tin-roofed, twin-spired parish
churches, "whence the angelus ringing, sprinkles with holy
sounds the air as a priest with his hyssop the congregation,"
attest the prevalence of the Roman Catholic religion. Fre-
quently a huge cross on a hill-top indicates that we are in a
Temperance parish.

The following is the judicious account, by one who knows
them well, of the character of the habitants of New France :

sh
in
kd

THE HABITANTS.

"The railway and telegraph of the nineteenth century run
through a country in which hundreds of people are to all in-
tents and purposes in the seventeenth century. Not > their
disrespect be this said, but as showing the tenacity wiiii liicli
they adhere to their language, manners and customs. TIk
Canadian habitants are probably as conservative as any people
on earth. Where innovations are thrust upon them by the
march of progress they adapt themselves to the changes ; but
where they are left to themselves they are happy in the enjoy-
ment of the life their fathers led, and are vexed by no restless
ambition to be other than they have been. Their wants are
simple and easily supplied ; they live peaceful and moral lives ;
and they are tilled with an abiding love for their language and
a profound veneration for their religion. By nature light-
hearted and vivacious, they are optimists without knowing it.
Inured to the climate, they find enjoyment in its most rigorous
seasons. French in all their thoughts, words and deeds, they
are yet loyal to the British crown, and contented under British
rule. Their ancient laws are secured to them by solemn com-
pact ; and their language and religion are landmarks which will

148

THE HABITANTS.

never be moved. In places where the English have established
themselves, some of the habitants understand the English lan-
guage, but none of them adopt it as their own. The mingling
of races has a contrary effect, and the English tongue often yields
to the French. There are many Englishmen in Quebec whose
children do not understand a word of their father's native
tongue ; but there are no Frenchmen whose children are ignor-
ant of the language of France.

" A traveller is very favourably impressed by the manners of
the country people. Many of them are in very humble circum-
stances ; books are to them a sealed mystery ; and their circum-
stances of life are not such as are supposed to conduce to refine-
ment of manners. Yet everywhere the stranger meets with
courtesy, and finds the evidence of true politeness — not mere
ceremonial politeness, but that which is dictated by sincerity
and aims at the accomplishment of a stranger's wishes as a
matter of duty. Where one does not understand the language
they will take great trouble to comprehend his meaning ; where
he can speak even indifferent French, he can make himself per-
fectly at home.

" As we thread this romantic region, everywhere is seen the
familiar church ; no hamlet is too poor to have a good one.
Should you seek the curd, you will find him a man whom it is
a pleasure to meec — well informed, affable, and full of the
praises of the land in which he lives. The habitants have a
sincere regard for their spiritual advisers, who are truly pastors
to their people, men whose lives are devoted to the well-being
of their flocks. They follow in the steps of the pioneer mission-
aries, whose heroic devotion in the past must forever bo honoured
by men of every creed."

We now proceed westward on our journey up the St. Law-
rence.

RIVER PORTS.

Rimouski is an important station on the Intercolonial, and
the place of connection with the ocean steamships, which stop
here to receive and deliver the mails, and to take on belated
passengers. The train runs down to the end of a pier, a mile
long, and a small steamer is employed as tender. Very lively

STE. CECILE DU BIC.

149

id
le

work it often is to board the steamship, when wind and tide
roughen the waves. At Father Point, six miles below, so named
because Father Henri Nouvel wintered here in 1663, the
steamers are signalled as they pass. Rimouski is a thoroughly
French town of about two thousand inhabitants. The huge
cathedral and extensive seminary are the most conspicuous
features of the place.

Nine miles further west is Bic — I beg pardon — Ste. C^cile du
Bic is its proper and more euphonious name. This is, to our
mind, the most picturesque spot on the St. Lawrence. A bay
in which a navy might ride, is studded with rocky or tree-clad
islands, and begirt with crags of rugged beauty, and backed by
highlands rising thirteen hundred feet. The railway sweeps
around the mountain's flank, on a shelf hewn out of the rock
at a height two hundred feet above the village, commanding
splendid views of river and shore. Here, as Wolfe's fleet swept
up the river for the conquest of Quebec, when the English flag
was run up in place of the French ensign at the peak, a
patriotic old priest, who had hoped it was a fleet of succour, fell
lifeless to the ground. Here, too, more recently, during the
Trent trouble, an English man-of-war discharged men and
stores, when the upper river was closed by ice. Nor is the
place without its legends of Indian warfare. In a cave on
rislet au Massacre, two hundred Micmacs took refuge from a
hostile party of Iroquois, and were cut off" almost to a man.
Enough, however, escaped to rally a party who dogged the
Iroquois to death, inflicting, after the savage manner, cruellest
revenge.

The next place of interest is Trois Pistoles, where the rival
attractions to the hungry traveller are the well-equipped dining-
room, and the huge and elegant parish church. The legend goes
that the river takes its name from the fee demanded by the
old Norman ferryman for putting an urgent passenger over the
swollen stream.

At frequent intervals on these lateral streams will be found
the typical Canadian sawmill, as shown in our cut Occasion-
ally, when all the lumber has been consumed, the old deserted
sawmill falls into picturesque ruins, as shown on page 135,

160

CACOUNA.

"where the rusty saw remains fixed, with its hungry teeth
imbedded in the great heart of the pine tree."

Cacouna is a quiet enough way-station during the greater
part of the year ; but during " the season," that is, in July and
August, it is one of the busiest on the line. Big trunks lumber the
platform, and crowded omnibuses fly to and fro. " Cacouna,"
says Mr. Reynolds, "is papilionaceous. In the summer it
spreads its wings and is jubilant ; its shores are thronged by

Canadian Sawmill

I ';

the votaries of pleasure ; boats dance upon the water, the gay
and festive dance upon the land ; there is music in the air, and
brightness everywhere. In the winter, it subsides into an
ordinary village ; the natives sit alongside of two-story stoves
and dream of the coming summer ; empty houses abound ; and
the great hotel is abandoned to silence, to darkness, and to
Peter Donnegan." It is the fashion to call Cacouna the Sara-
toga of Canada. The Canadian Newport would be the better
name. The broad outlook and health-giving breezes of the St.

THE CANADIAN NEWPORT.

151

Lawrence will forever prevent it becoming the mere fashion-
able resort that the former gay American watering place is.
Saratoga is one of the hottest, and Cacouna is one of the
coolest, summer resorts that I know.

Five and twenty years ago I spent a month here. Then it
was one of the quietest places in the Queen's dominions. I
brought a trunk full of books, and when I had read them all
I sent to Quebec for some more, which did not arrive till after
long delay. One can't bathe all the time, and, barring the walks

over the breezy
hills, it was a good
deal like going to
jail for a month,
or, at least, being
a prisoner "on the
bounds." But now
" Nous avons change
tout cela." It is cer-
tainly the gayest and
most popular watering
place in Canada. Here may
be seen, in all her glory, la
hdle Canadienve and her
English-speaking
cousin, who com-
bines all the grace
and beauty of the
Old World with th^
vivacity and bril-
liancy of the New.
The great hotel, with
its six hundred guests, and several of the lesser ones, are scenes
of liveliest festivity. In the many covtages and peu^ions
people of quieter tastes will find abundant gratification. The
ubiquitous presence and obliging courtesy of the habitant gives
a fine foreign flavour to the .social atmosphere that is quite
piquant. I was complimenting one of the French " carters," as
they are called — a corrupiioa of charretier — on the steadiness

Falls of the Riviere r>v Loup, Que,

152

RIVIERE DU LOUP.

of his little runt of a Canadian pony, when, with an eager
grimace, he replied, " Oiti, oui, monsieur, il et trea tranquille."

Six miles from Cacouna is the important river port and rail-
way station of Riviere du Loup. Its name is said to be de-
rived from the fact that many years ago it was the resort of
great droves of seals — loups-marins — who frequented the
shoals at the mouth of the river. It is, at all events, a pleas-
anter derivation than the suggested one from the ill-visaged
wolf of the forest. The place abounds in picturesque scenery.
The falls shown in our vignette, about eighty feet of a descent,
with the fine background of the Intercolonial railway bridge,
make a very striking picture. A long and strong pier juts far
out into the river, and is a favorite promenade and an im-
portant place of call for steamers. The sunset view across the
river of the pearly-tinted north shore, twenty miles distant, is
very impressive. Frequently will be seen a long, low hull,
from which streams a thin pennon of smoke, where the ocean
steamer is making her swift way, outward or homeward bound.
Nearer the spectator the sails of the fishing craft gleam rosy red
in the sunset light, and then turn spectral pale like sheeted
ghosts. This is the only place where I ever saw fishing with a
rifle. When the white-bellied porpoises, and sometimes whales,
gambol and tumble amid the waves, they are often shot by ex-
pert marksmen. They are frequently twenty feet long, and
will yield a hundred gallons of oil.

THE SAGUENAY.

Nearly opposite Riviere du Loup there flows into the St.
Lawrence, from the northern wilderness, one of the most re-
markable rivers on the face of the earth, the storied Saguenay.
It is not formed by erosion of the rocks as is the gorge of the
Niagara. It receives no tributaries as do other rivers, except the
considerable stream, the Chicoutimi, and a few minor ones.
It is manifestly an enormous chasm rent in the old primeval
rock, up and down which flows forevermore the restless tide. It
is also the deepest river in the world, a line of one hundred
and fifty fathoms failing in some places to reach the bottom.
The banks, for nearly the whole distance, are an uninterrupted

THE SAGUENAY.

153

series of towering cliffs, in many places as perpendicular as a
wall, varying from 300 to 1,800 feet high.

A sense of utter loneliness and desolation is the predominant
feeling in sailing up the river. The water in the deep, brown
shadow of the cliff is of inky blackness. Where broken into
spray it looks like an infusion of logwood. It makes one
irresistibly think of Styx and Acheron, those black-flowing
streams of Tartarus.

On either side arise " bald, stately bluffs that never wore a
smile." On through scenes of unimaginable wildness, or of
stern and savage grandeur that thrill the soul, we glide. All is
lone and desolate, as though we were the first who sailed on the
enchanted stream. A deathly spell seems to mantle over it,
reminding one of

*' That lone lake whose gloomy shore
Skylark never warbled o'er."

From the mouth of the river to Ha Ha Bay, I saw hardly
a single indication of life. For miles and miles not a house,
nor fence, nor field, nor bird, nor beast met the eye. In the
whole route I saw but one solitary water-fowl. After passing
through this gorge of desolation, terror-haunted, the early voya-
geura burst into a glad Ha ! Ha ! as they glided into the smiling
bay which retains the name so singularly given.

Near the mouth of the river a rocky island, fantastically
named TSte de Boule, lifts its enormous bulk above the waters.
"It stands amid stream thoughtfully apart," like the stern
warder of this rocky pass, an if questioning our right to invade
this solitary, lone domain.

Onward still we glide over the sullen waters, past a thousand
towering bluffs, either of naked desolation or densely covered
with dwarf pines wherever they can find a foothold, climbing
upward, hand in hand, or in stern phalanx of serried rank be-
hind rank to the mountain's top, while from the precipice's
lofty brow, impish-looking cedars peer timorously down into the
gloomy gulf below.

As we thread the tortuous stream, ever and anon the way
appears to be impeded by " startling barriers rising sullenly

154

GRAND CUFFS.

from the dark deep," like genii oi; the rocky pass, as if to bar

our progress, but

" — meet them face to face,
The magic doors fly open and the rocks recede apace. "

Stern and dark and reticent they stand, like the drugged
giants in the German cave of Rutli, by beck nor sign betraying
the secrets of their rocky hearts. " From their sealed granite
lips there comes tradition nor refrain." They keep forevermore
their lonely watch

" — year after year,
In solitude eternal, rapt in contemplation drear."

Capes Trinity and Eternity, River Saodenay.

With what a reverential awe they stand — the brown waters
laving their feet, the tleecy clouds veiling their broad bare fore-
heads, the dark forests girdling their loins ; their grave, majestic
faces furrowed by the torrents, seamed and scarred by the
lightnings, scathed and blasted by a thousand storms.

They make one think of Prometheu.s, warring with the eternal
elements upon Mount Caucasus ; of Lear, wrestling with storm
and tempest; or, more appropriately still, of John the Baptist, in
his unshorn majesty, in the wilderness.

Capes Trinity i:nd Eternity, the two loftiest bluffs, are respec-
tively 1,600 and 1,800 feet high. The latter rises perpendicu-
larly out of the fathomless waters at its base. It has some-

ROCK ECHOES.

155

what the outline of a huge, many-buttressed Norman tower.
But so exaggerated are the proportions, so apparently inter-
minable the perpendicular lines upon its face, that it seems
rather the work of the Titans, piling Pelion upon Ossa, and
seeking to scale the skies. As the steamer lay at the foot of
the cliff it seemed dwarfed to insignificance by the vast size of
the rock. The steam-whistle was repeatedly blown. Instantly
a thousand slumbering echoes were aroused from their ancient
lair, their hoar " immemorial ambush," and shouted back their
stern defiance. How they rolled and reverberated among the
ancient hills. How inconceivably grand must it be when all
the artillery of heaven are bellowing through the air, and the
lightnings flash, like the bright glancing of the two-edged
sword that guards the gates of Paradise, and these mountain
sides are clothed with all the drapery of the storm.

To my mind, the loveliest features of the scenery are the
little rills that trickle down the mountain sides,

" Like tears of gladness o'er a giant's face."

They suggest all manner of whimsical similes. Now they
are like a virgin veil, hiding the mountain's forehead ; now like
a white hand waving welcome through the distance ; now like
the joyous flashing of a snowy brow, crowned with fadeless
amaranth ; now the pallid gleam of a death-cold forehead,
wreathed with funeral asphodel ; now the tossing of a warrior's
plume ; now the waving of a flag of peace ; now as one plunges
down the bank it shakes its white mane like a war-horse taking
his last leap ; now one bounds with panting, breathless, leopard-
like, impetuous leaps adown the rugged rocks, like a rash
suicide eager to plunge into the cold, dark -flowing river of
death ; now stealthily and insidiously one glides serpent-like
among the moss or concealed amid the matted foliage, betrayed
only by its liquid flash.

At the mouth of the river is the delightfully picturesque
village of L'Anse a I'Eau. It is a wildly romantic spot, as com-
pletely isolated from civilization as one could wish. Nestling
in the embrace of the grand old hills, it receives the smile of the
sun as a child held up in its mother's arms to receive its father's

156

TA DO US AC.

kiss. The village, with its curved roofs and overhanging eaves,
all whitewashed, has a very Swiss-like appearance.

In a little bay, separated by a ledge of rocks from L'Anse &
I'Eau, is the old French hamlet of Tadousac, one of the first
settlements of the Jesuit fathers. Here are the old buildings
and rusty cannon of a Hudson's Bay post. In strong contrast
are the large summer hotel and the elegant villas erected by
Lord Duff'erin and others. I here visited the first church
erected in Canada, 1G71. It is of wood, quite small and very
antique, is much weather-worn, and is truly venerable in ap-
pearance. It has some fine paintings and a quaint old altar.

"r««tfi*tf*--^-.

Old Chdrch, Tadousac.

' <i

The steamboat goes about a hundred miles up this marvellous
river to Chicoutimi, the head of navigation. It is the great
shipping point of the lumber districts. Sixty miles north-west
of Chicoutimi is the Lake of St. John, first visited in 1647 by
Father Duquen. It is a lake of largo area, receiving the waters
of eight considerable streams.

Mr. Price, M.P., states that a missionary has recently dis-
covered, high upon the Saguenay (or on the Mistassini), an an-
cient French fort, with intrenchments and stockades. On the
inside were two cannon, and several broken tombstones dating
from the early part of the sixteenth century. It. is surmised

A STKANGE STREAM.

157

that these remote memorials mark the last resting-place of the
Sieur Roberval, Viceroy of New France, wh > (it is supposed)
sailed up the Saguenay in 1543, and was never heard from
afterwards.

At Ha Ha Bay large quantities of lumber arc loaded upon
British and Scandinavian ships, and a flourishing trade is car-
ried on in the autumn by sending farm-produce and blueberries
to Quebec, — " the latter being packed in cofRn-shaped boxes and
sold for ten to twenty cents a bushel."

"So broad and stately is this inlet," .says Mr. Sweetser, "that
it is said the early French explorers ascended it in the belief
that io was the main river, and the name originated from
their exclamations on reaching the end, either of amusement at
their mistake or of pleasure at the beautiful appearance of the
meadow.s."

Of this strange stream Bayard Taylor thus writes :

" The Saguenay is not, properly, a river. It is a tremendous
chasm, like that of the Jordan Valley and the Dead Sea, cleft
for sixi^ miles through the heart of a mountain wilderness. No
mag','''' .Uusions of atmosphere enwrap the scenery of this
northern river. Everything is hard, naked, stern, silent. Dark-
gray cliffs of granitic gneiss rise from the pitch-black water ;
firs of gloomy green are rooted in their crevices and fringe their
summits ; loftier ranges of a dull indigo hue show themselves
in the background, and over all bends a pale, cold, northern sky.
The keen air, which brings out every object with a crystalline
distinctness, even contracts the dimensions of the scenery,
diminishes the height of the cliffs, and apparently belittles the
majesty of the river, so that the first feeling is one of disap-
pointment. Still, it exercises a fascination which you cannot
resist. You look, and look, fettered by the fresh, novel, savage
stamp which nature exhibits, and at last, as in St. Peter's or at
Niagara, learn from the character of the separate features to
appreciate the grandeur of the whole.

" Steadily upwards we went, the windings of the river and
its varying breadth giving us a shifting succession of the
grandest pictures. Shores that seemed roughly piled to-
gether out of the fragments of chaos overhung us, — great

158

CAPES TRINITY AND ETERNITY.

masses of rock, gleaming duskily through their scanty drapery
of evergreens, here lifting long irregular walls agains^ ^he sky,
there split into huge, fantastic forms by deep lateral gorges, up
which we saw the dark-blui) crests of loftier mountains in the
rear. The water beneath us was black as night, with a pitchy
glaze on its surface ; and the only life in all the savage solitude
was, now and then, the back of a white porpoise, in some of the
deeper coves. The river is a reproduction, on a contracted
scale, of the fiords of the Norwegian coast. The dark moun-
tains, the tremendous precipices, the fir forests, even the settle-
ments at Ha Ha Bay and L'Anse ^ I'Eau (except that the
houses are white instead of red) are as c^'npletely Norwegian
as they can be."

This strange river was probably the bed of son,.8 primeval
glacier, for its lofty precipices of syenitic gneiss are grooved
and scratched with the deep striae, indicating long continued
ice action.

The tremendous rock masses of Capes Trinity and Eternity
are thus described by the graphic pen of Bayard Taylor : " These
awful cliffs, planted in water nearly a thousand feet deep, and
soaring into the very sky, form the gateway to a rugged
valley, stretching inland, and covered with the dark primeva'
forest of the North. I doubt whether a sublimer picture
of the wilderness is to be found on this continent. The dun-
coloured syenitic granito, ribbed with vertical streaks of black,
hung for a moment directly over our heads, as high as three
Trinity spires atop ol! one anothex. Westward, the wall ran in-
land, projecting bastion after bastion of inaccessible rock, over
the dark forests in the bed of the valley."

Cape Trinity, it is said, actually impends over its base
more than one hundred feet, " brow-beating all beneath it, and
seeming as if at any moment it would fall and s^erwhelm
the deep black stream which flows so cold and stealthily below."

When the " Flying Fish " ascended the river with the Prince
of Wales, one of her heavy sixty-eight-pounders was fired off
near Cape ''^rinity. " For the apace of half a minute or so after
the discharge there was a dead silence, and then, as if the
report and concussion were hurled back upon the decks, the

;-:■■'

''THE SAMSON OF THE S AGUE NAY."

169

echoes came down crash upon crash. It seemed as if the rocks
and crags had all sprung into life under the tremendous din,
and as if each were firing sixty-eight-pounders full upon us, in
sharp, crushing volleys, till at last they grew hoarser and
hoarser in their anger, and retreated, bellowing slowly, carry-
ing the tale of invaded solitude from hill to hill, till all the
distant mountains seemed to roar and groan at the intrusion."

Our Canadian poet, Sangster, thus apostrophises those stupen-
dous cliffs :

** Nature has here put on her royalest dress.
And Cape Eternity looms grandly up,
Like a God reigning in the wilderness
Holding coniinuniun with tlie distant cope,
Interpreting the stars' dreams, as they ope
Their silver gates, where stand his regal kin. . .

•* Strong, eager tliouglits come crowding to my eyes,

Earnest and swift, like Romans in the race,

As in stern grandeur, looming up the skies,

This Monarch of the Bluifs, ' with kingly grace,

Stands firmly fixed in his eternal place,

Like the great Samson of the Saguenay,

Tlie stately parent of the giant race

Of mountiiins, scattered — thick as ocean's spray
Sown by the tempest— up this granite-guarded way.

" My lips are mute. I cannot speak the thought

That, like a bubble on the placid sea,

Brusts ere it tells the tale with which 'tis fraughb.

Another comes, and so, eternally,

They rise in h(jpe, to wander spirit-free

Above the earth. 'Twere best they should not break

The silence, which itself is ecstasy

Or godlike elo(juence, or my frail voice shake
A single echo, the expressive calm to break."

" In the year 1599 a trading-post was established at Tadousac
by Pontgravd and Chauvin, to whom this country had been
granted. They built storehouses and huts, and left sixteen
men to gather in the furs from the Indians, but several of these
died and the rest fled into the forest. Two subsequent attempts
* Trinity Rock — a stupondous mass of granite.

■■^WV-'*'*'-'*--'^*.-*-

160

SOUTH SHORE VILLAGES.

within a few years ended as disastrously. In 1 628 the place
was captured by Admiral Kirke, and in 1632 his brother died
here. In 1658 the lordship of this district was given to the
Sieur Demaux, with the dominion over the country between
Eboulements and Cape Cormorant. Three years later the
place was captured by the Iroquois, and the garrison was mas-
sacred. In 1690 three French frigates, bearing the royal
treasure to Quebec, were chased in here by Sir William Phipps's
New-England fleet. They formed batteries on the Tadousac
shores, but the Americans were unable to get their vessels up
through the swift currents, and the French fleet was saved."

Returning to Riviere du Loup, we will proceed westward by
the south shore, and afterward describe the interesting places
of resort on the north shore. The Intercolonial Railway runs
for the most part at some distance from the river, but, at times,
we are in full view of its shining reaches, and almost always of
the bold Laurentian range on the op"[)osite shore. The first
place of interest is Notre Dame du Portage, so named because
here a cro.ssing was formerly made over the height of land to
the upper waters of the Wallastook, or Saint John river. Then
comes the pretty village of Kamouraska, reached by a drive
of five miles from St. Paschal station. Here the great church
of St. Louis and an extensive convent attract the attention. A
little to the west is the ill-omened Cap au Diable, and soon we
reach the Riviere Quelle, named from Madame Houel, who was
held in captivity by the Indians in the seventeenth century.
Here is the quaint Casgrain manor house, over a hundred years
old. Ste. Anne de la Pocatifere is a thriving town of three
thousand inhabitants, about seventy-two miles below Quebec.
It has a large convent and a college, with thirty professors and
a stately pile of buildings. It has also an agricultural school
and a model farm. For many a mile the stately mass of Les
Eboulements, on the north shore, is full in view. In the sun-
set light it seems transfused into a glowing mass of opal and
pearl.

Montmagny, with its two thousand inhabitants and large
college, commemorates an old historic name — that of an early
Viceroy of New France, the great " Onontio," or " Big Moun-

CROSSE ISLE.

161

tain," as the Indians translated his name. Goose and Crane
Islands, in the vicinity, sound more romantic under their
French names — Isle aux Oies, and Isle aux Grues. Grosse Isle,
the quarantine station of Canada, is a place of saddest memories.
It has been described as a " vast tomb," so many have been the
immigrants who have reached these shores only to die, poisoned in
the filthy and crowded ships. This was in the days when it took
twelve weeks to cross the Atlantic, and when typhus, or small-
pox, or cholera, were the not unfrequent companions of the
voyage. "In a single grave," says Mr. LeMoine, "seven thou-

CiTV OF Quebec.

sand, in the time of the ship-fever, were buried." But now,
in ten days, in health and comfort, well fed and well cared for,
the immigrant is transferred from his old to his new home.

Berthier, St. Valier, St. Michel, Beaumont, and other villages,
whose very names have a poetic sound, are strung along the
shining St. Lawrence, like pearls upon a necklace. The river
winds between the fair and fertile Island of Orleans and the bold
south .shore, an almost continuous settlement of white-walled,
white-roofed houses, with, every five or six miles, a large parish
church. This is one of the longest settled parts of Canada, and
almost every cape or village has its historic or romantic legend.
The view from either rail-car or steamer, as one passes the
11

162

MAL BAIL.

If;

'51:

western end of the Island of Orleans, is one of the grandest on
the continent — one of the grandest in the world. To the ex-
treme right, waving and shimmering in the sunlight like a
bridal veil, is the Fall of Montmorenci. To the left are the
rugged heights of Point Levi, and there, full in view, are the
stately cliffs of Quebec, crowned with bastions and batteries, and
" flowering into spires." Few spots on earth unite in such
wonderful combination, majestic scenery, and thrilling historic
memories.

THE NORTH SHORE.

I return now to describe the rugged scenery of the north
shore of the St. Lawrence. The sail by one of the local river
steamers, or, better still, by one of the market boats calling at
the several landing places, i.s a very easy and pleasant way of
"doing" the Lower St. Lawrence. But to get the full flavour
of the quaint, Old World life of the habitants, and to get near
to Nature's heart in some of he: sublimest moods, we would
recommend a drive along the post road in one of the native
carriages or caliches ; or, still better, a tramp with knapsack on
back. It would not be hard to imagine one's self in the Artois
or Picardy of a hundred years or more ago.

From the Saugenay to Quebec is a distance of some hundred
and forty miles. The first forty miles is pretty rugged and in-
hospitable. The pedestrian tourist will probably be willing to
begin his westward tramp at Murray Bay, or Mai Bale, so called
by Champlain, on account of its turbulent tides, the Cacouna of
the north shore. At this place all the steamers call, both going
up and down. The town, with its three thousand inhabitants,
clusters around the great church near the bridge across the
Murray River. The hotels are at Point a Pic, where the steamer
calls at a long wharf, and summer cottages extend several miles,
down to Cap k I'Aigle.

Mr. LeMoine, who has described with loving minuteness the
chief scenes on this storied river, thus records his impression of
beautiful Mai Bale : " Of all the picturesque parishes on the
shore of our grand river, to which innumerable swarms of
tourists go every summer, none will interest the lover of sublime
landscapes more than Mai Bale. One must go there to enjoy

EBOULLEMENS.

163

the rugged, the grandeur of nature, the broad horizons. He
will not find here the beautiful wheat fields of Kamouraska, the
pretty and verdurous shores of Cacouna or Rimouski, where
the languorous citizen goes to strengthen his energies during
the dog-days; here is savage and unconquered nature, and
view-points yet more majestic, than those of the coasts and
walls of Bic. Precipice on precipice ; impenetrable gorges in
the projections of the rocks ; peaks which lose themselves in
the clouds, and among which the bears wander through July, in
search of berries; where the caribou browses in September;
where the solitary crow and the royal eagle make their nests in
May; in short, alpine landscapes, the pathless Highlands of Scot-
land, a Byronic nature, tossed about, heaped up in the North,
far from the ways of civilized men, near a volcano that from
time to tirpe awakens and shakes the country in a manner to
frighten, but not to endanger, the romantic inhabitants. Ac-
cording to some, in order to enjoy all the fulness of these
austere beauties, one must be at the privileged epoch of life.
If then you wish to taste, in their full features, the dreamy soli-
tudes of the shores, the grottos, the great forests of Point £i
Pique or Cap k I'Aigle, or to capture by hundreds the frisking
trout of the remote Gravel Lake, you must have a good eye, a
well-nerved arm, and a supple leg."

For many a mile the mighty mass of Les Eboullemens, the.
loftiest peak, save one, of the Laurentides, " old as the world,"
rising to the height of 2,457 feet, dominates the landscape.
Grouped around the parish church, high on the mountain slope,
is the pretty village of Eboullemens, thus apostrophised by our
Canadian singer, Sangster :

" Eboullemens sleeps serenely in the arms
Of the maternal hill, upon whose breast
It lies, like a sweet, infant soul, whose charms
Fill some fond mother's bosom with that rest
Caused by the presence of a heavenly guest."

A conspicuous feature of the steamboat landing is the immense
wharf, nearly a thousand feet long. Running for several miles
between the rugged mountains of the north shore and the

164

ISLE AUX COUDRES.

smiling Isle aux Coudres, so named from the abundance of hazel
trees it contains, the steamer rounds into the beautiful St. Paul's
Bay, one of the loveliest spots on the whole river.

" St. Paul's delightful bay, fit mirror for
The stars, glows like a vision which the wind
Wafts by some angel standing on the shore.

As bless'd as if he trod heaven's star-enamelled floor.

'* Those two majestic hills* kneel down to kiss
The village at their feet ; the cottages,
Pearl-like and glowing, speak of humfvn bliss.
With a low, eloquent tongue. Fit symbols these
Of a diviner life — of perfect ease
Allied to blessed repose. The church spire looks,
Like a sweet promise smiling through the trees;
While far beyond this loveliest of nooks.

The finely-rounded, swells dream of the babbling bfooks."

The land route leads over the shoulder of the mountain, com-
manding magnificent outlooks over the broad, sail-studded
river. The picturesque valleys of the Moulin and Gouffre
rivers present many pleasant vistas of mountain scenery : " In
all the miles of country I have passed over," says Ballantyne,
" I have seen nothing to equal the exquisite beauty of the Vale
of Bale St. Paul. From the hill on which we stood, the whole
valley, of many miles in extent, was visible. It was perfectly
level, and covered from end to end with hamlets, and several
churches, with here and there a few small patches of forest.
Like the Happy Valley of Rasselas, it was surrounded by the
most wild and rugged mountains, which rose in endless succes-
sion one behind the other, stretching away in the distance, till
they resembled a faint blue wave in the horizon." The Isle aux
Coudres, it is claimed, is more purely mediaeval in its character
than any other region in Canada, and its people exhibit a
charming remnant of old Norman life. Here, according to a
statement of Jacques Cartier, the first mass ever celebrated in
Canada was said on September 7th, 1535.

The next settlement is the populous village of St. Francois
Xavier. For some distance west of this the grim Laurentian

* At Little St. Paul Bay — one of the most delightful pictures on the route.

CHATEAU BELLEVUE.

165

range rises so abruptly from the water's edge that there is room
for neither road nor houses. Of this region Bayard Taylor
says : " We ran along the bases of headlands, 1,000 to 1,500 feet
in height, wild and dark with lowering clouds, gray with rain,
or touched with a golden transparency by the sunshine, — alter-
nating belts of atmospheric effect, which greatly increased their
beauty." He is quite below the mark in his estimate, for some
of these rise to an altitude of over 2,00) feet

St. Joachim, twenty-seven miles from Quebec by the land
route, is the next village. From this point to Quebec the road is
full of interest. Those who cannot walk or drive over the whole
route that we have been describing, will find that this part of it
will best repay their trouble. It can best be visited from the
ancient capital. Near by is the old Chateau Bellevue, and be-
hind it the lofty promontory of Cape Tourmente, 1,919 feet
high, which for nearly a century has been crowned with a
gigantic cross. The magnificent prospect from its summit is
thus photographed by the vivid pen of Parkman : " Above the
vast meadows of the parish of St. Joachim, that here borders
the St. Lawrence, there rises like an island a low flat hill,
hedged round with forests, like the tonsured head of a monk.
It was here that Laval planted his school. Across the meadows,
a mile or more distant, towers the mountain promontory of
Cape Tourmente. You may climb its woody steeps, and from
the top, waist-deep in blueberry bushes, survey from Kamou-
raska to Quebec, the grand Canadian world outstretched below ;
or mount the neighbouring heights of Ste. Anne, where, athwart
the gaunt arms of ancient pines, the river lies shimmering in
summer haze, the cottages of the habitants are strung like
beads of a rosary along the meadows of Beauprd, the shores of
Orleans bask in warm light, and far on the horizon the rock of
Quebec rests like a faint gray cloud ; or traverse the forest till
the roar of the torrent guides you to the rocky solitude where it
holds its savage revels. . . . Game on the river ; trout in
lakes, brooks, and pools; wild fruits and flowers on the meadows
and mountains ; a thousand resources of honest and healthful
recreation here await the student emancipated from his books,
but not parted for a moment from the pious influence that hangs

166

LA BONNE STE. ANNE.

about the old walls embosomed in the woods of St. Joachim
Around on plains and hills stand the dwellings of a peaceful
peasantry, as different from the restless population of the
neighbouring States as the denizens of some Norman or Breton
village."

Five miles west of St. Joachim is the miracle-working
shrine of La Bonne Ste. Anne — the favourite resort of religious
pilgrims in the New World — unless, indeed, a single shrine
in Mexico may surpass it in this respect. The relics of Ste.
Anne, the mother of the Virgin Mary, are exhibited in a crystal
globe, and are said to cause most miraculous cures. For over
two centuries pilgrims have visited this sacred shrine — some-
times as many as twenty-four thousand in a single summer.
Great sheaves of crutches are exhibited as proofs of the mira-
culous cures said to be effected. There is no reason to doubt
that, in many cases, nervous affections may be temporarily, or
even permanently, relieved through the influence of a vivid
imagination or a strong will. But so have they also by the
charlatanry of mesmerism, spirit-healing and the like.

I quote again from Parkman's brilliant pages : " Above all,
do not fail to make your pilgriiDage to the shrine of St. Anne.
Here, when Aillebout was governor, he began with his own
hands the pious work, and a habitant of Beaupr^, Louis Gui-
mont, sorely afflicted with rheumatism, came grinning with pain,
to lay three stones in the foundation, in honour probably of St.
Anne, St. Joachim, and their daughter, the Virgin. Instantly
he was cured. It was but the beginning of a long course of
miracles continued more than two centuries, and continuing still.
Their fame spread far and wide. The devotion to St. Anne be-
came a distinguishing feature of Canadian Catholicity, till at
the present day at least thirteen parishes bear her name.
Sometimes the whole shore was covered with the wigwams
of Indian converts, who had paddled their birch canoes from
the farthest wilds of Canada. The more fervent among them
would crawl on their knees from the shore to the altar.
And, in our own day, every summer a far greater concourse of
pilgrims, not in paint and feathers, but in cloth and millinery,
and not in canoes, but in steamboats, bring their offerings and
their vows to the ' Bonne St. Anne.'"

COTE DE BE A UP RE.

167

Behind the town rises the loftiest peak of the Laurentides,
Ste. Anne Mountain, 2,GS7 feet high.

Seven miles beyond Ste. Anne is the thriving village of
Ch^eau Richer, with a population of about two thousand. On
a bold bluff above the village rises the spacious parish church,
commanding a magnificent view of the river, the white villages
and shimmering tin roofs and spires, th6 Island of Orleans and
the north shore. Near Chateau Richer, on a rocky promontory,
are the remains of an old Franciscan monastery, founded about
169.5. Five miles further, and we reach the pretty village of Ange
Gardien, nestled in a sheltered glen, around a venerable parish
church. The parish was founded by Bishop Laval over two
hundred years ago.

From Ange Gardien to Quebec is almost one continual village,
so numerous are the little farm steadings, each, with narrow
front, running far back from the road. The quiet, little inns
resemble the quaint auberges of Brittany or Normandy. Mr.
Sweetser well I'emarks: " No rural district north of Mexico is
more quaint and mediaeval than the Beaupr^ road, with its
narrow and ancient farms, its low and massive stone houses,
roadside crosses and chapels, and unprogressive French popula-
tion. But few districts are more beautiful than this, with the
broad St. Lawrence on the south, and the garden-like Isle of
Orleans ; the towers of Quebec on the west, and the sombre
ridges of Cape Tourmente and the mountains of Ste. Anne and
St. Fereol in advance."

Thoreau, the American nature-student, made a pedestrian
tour through this region, and thus records his impressions. He
quotes the Abbe Ferland, as saying: "In the inhabitants of
Cote de Beaupr^ you find the Norman peasant of the reign of
Louis XIV., with his annals, his songs, and his superstitions ; "
and adds, " Though all the while we had grand views- of the
country far up and down the river, and when we turned about,
of Quebec, in the horizon behind us — and we never beheld it
without new surprise and admiration — yet, throughout our
walk, the Great River of Canada on our right hand was the
main feature in the landscape, and this expands so rapidly
below the Isle of Orleans, and creates such a breadth of level

ISLAND OF ORLEANS.

IGi)

surface above its waters in that direction, that looking down
the river as we approached the extremity of that island, the
St. Lawrence seemed to be opening into the ocean, though
we were still altout 825 miles trom what can bo called its
mouth."

The intervention of even a mile of water gives a mental and
social, as well as physical, isolation. 8o the large and fertile
Island of Orleans, even less than the mainland, exhibits signs
of the progress of the age, and its knhiiiinl^ " still retain inncli
of the Norman simplicity of the early settlers under Champlain
and Frontenac." It is twenty miles long and five and a half wide,
and contains about fifty thousand acres. It especially excels in
the quality of its fruit. There are good roads, and several in-
teresting villages on the island, which will well repay a visit.
On the north shore, in 1825, were built the colossal timber-.ships
the Columbus 3,700 tons, and th»' Baron Revfrew, .S,000 tons,
the largest vessels that the world had seen up to that time.

Mr. Sweetser tells the following remarkable story: " The
Boute des Pr^trea runs north from St. Laurent to St. Pierre, and
was so named tifty years ago, when this church had a piece of
St. Paul's arm-bone, which was taken away to St. Pierre, and
thence was stolen at night by the St. Laurent people. After
long controversy, the Bi-shop of Quebec ordered that each
church should restore to the other its own relics, which was
done upon this road in the presence of large processions, the
relics being exchanged at the great black cross midway on the
road."

QUKBEC.

The most beautiful approach to Quebec is that by the river
St. Lawrence from below the city. I think I never in my life
saw any sight of such exquisite loveliness as the view of this
historic spot when sailing up the river at sunrise. The num-
erous spires and tin roofs of the city caught and reflected the
level rays of the sun like the burnished shields of an army
hurling back the javelins of an enemy. The virgin city seemed
like some sea-goddess rising from the waves with a diamond
tiara on her brow ; or like an ocean-queen seated on her
sapphire-circled throne, stretching forth her jewelled hand across

170

QUEBEC.

the sea and receiving tribute from every clime. The beautiful
suburbs of Beauport, Ciiiltcau Richer and L'Ange Clardiun
seemed in the distance like the snowy tents of a vast encamp-
ment beleaguering the city, or, in more peaceful simile, like a
tlock of milk-white sheep pasturing upon the green hill-sides.
As wo rounded the point of the fertile Island of Orleans, the
lovely Fall of Montmorenci burst upon the view. Like the
snowy veil of a blushing bride, it hung seemingly motionless in
the distance, or but slightly agitated as if by half-suppressed
emotion.

■ sinjsu.A.jji.ti^

Quebec ik 1837.

There is an air of quaint medievalism about Quebec that
pertains, I believe, to no other place in America. The historic
associations that throng ai'ound it, like the sparrows round its
lofty towers, the many reminiscences that beleaguer it, as once
did the hosts of the enemy, invest it with a deep and abiding
interest. But its greatness is of the past. The days of its
feudal glory have departed. It is interesting rather on account
of what it has been than for what it is. Those cliffs and bas-
tions are eloquent with associations of days gone by. They
are suggestive of ancient feuds now, let us hope, forever dead.
These walls, long laved by the ever-ebbing and flowing tide of
human life, are voiceful with old-time memories.

ITS irALLS.

171

Tho prominent feature in the topr)<»raphy of Quebec is Cape
Diamond. It rises almost perpendicularlj' to a lu;it,'lit of throe
hundred feet above tho lower town. It is crowned by the im-
pregnable citadel, whose position and strenj;th iiave gained for
the city the aohriipwt — the (Jibraltar of America.

The cliff on which the city stands is somewhat the shape of
a triangle, the two sides of which are formed by the rivers St.
Lawrence and St. Charles, while the base of the triangle is
formed by the Plains of Abraham, west of the city. Hei-e was
fought the battle whereby Quebec was wrested from the French
in 1759. The river fronts are defended by a continuous wall
on the very brow of the cliff, with flanking towers and bastions,
all loop-holed for musketry and pierced for cannon. The west
side, toward the level plain, has a triple wall — or rather had, for
much of it has been demolished — faced with masonry, running
zig-zag across the plain, with deep, wide trenches between.
The inner wall was sufficiently higher than the others to allow
the heavy cannon which it mounts to rake the entire glacis in
case of assault or attempted escalade. These grass-grown ram-
parts are now a favourite promenade for the citizens, and play-
ground for the children.

In the soft afternoon light of a lovely summer day I drove

out to the Plains of Abraham
and the battle-field of Ste. Foye.
The bouldered and billowy plain
on which was lost to France and
won to Great Britain the sover-
eignty of a continent, seemed
desecrated by the construction
of a racecourse, and the erection
of a prison. On the spot made
famous forever by the heroism
of the gallant young conqueror,
who, for England's sake, freely
laid down his life, a rather meagi'e monument asserts, " Here
Wolfe died victorious."

Wolfe's Old Monument.

3 1' i

II ■■

3 M !«■ I

•ilul

ill

!;!-■■ .'

II'

Old Poi'LARS

AND TAKT OF

LoWKR IIa.MI'AHTS,

/7;s- MEMORIES.

17.'^

ITS STORIED PAST.
In the eveninf:^, from thegrass-fjrown and crnniblinL,' miiiparts
on tlic landward side of Quebec, I belioM a niagniHceiit sunset
over the beautiful valley of the St. Charles. Hverytliing
spoke, not of battle's stern array, but of the gentle reitJtn of
peace. CJrim-vi.saired war had smoothed his rugijfod fiont,
and instead of rallying throngs of armed men, groups of gay
holiday makers sauirtere<l to and fro. InstMl of watchful
.sentries uttering their stern challenge, y(mth.s and maidens
softly repeated the olden story first toUl in the sinless bowers
of paradise. Ravelins anil demilunes were crumbling into
ruin. Howitzer and culverin lay dismounted (m the ground,
and had become the playthings of gleeful children. Insteail of
the rude alarms of war, strains of festive music tilled the air.
Slowly .sank the su"
to the .serrated hor-
izon, while a rolling
.^ea of mountains
deepened from pearl
gray in the t'ore-
jjfround to darkest
purple in the dis-
tance. The whole
valley was flooded
with a <:old»'n radiance. The winding river, at \vhos<' mouth
Jacques Cartier wintered bis ships well nigh three hundred
an<l fifty years ago, beneath tlw- fading light, like the waters
of the Nile under the rod of Mose.s, .seemed changing into
blood. Till! criuison and yi/Mn\ banners of the sky re-
flected the passing glory. TJw soft ringing of the Angelu.
floated in silvery tones upon the air, and told that the <lny was
dying. 'I'be red sun-.set and the rich after-glow filled the
heaven.s. 'J'he long sweep of sli< re to Beaupoit and ^b)ntlllo-
renci, and the .shadowy hills, faded away in the gathering dusk.
Lights gleamed in cottage homes, on the ships swingiiiir with
the tidi', and in the sky above, and were retlecte 1 in the wavi'S
beneath ; and the solemn night came down.

On my way home tw my lodgings through the silent and

•Sll 1.1,1. (iLN^

i'i

■I

l:r:

■ ■- -

U-

"■'W ■

■» \

m
I&

■A ■-

tiLL—

JESUITS AND RECOLLETS.

175

moonlit city, I sat down on the steps of tlie old Jesuit college,
long used as a barracks for the British troops, and then in pro-
cess of demolition. As I sat in the moonlight I endeavoured
to people the dim cloisters and deserted quadrangle with the
ghosts of their former inhabitants — the astute, and wily, and
withal heroic men who, from these halls, so largely controlled
the religious and political destiny of the continent. Here they
collected the wandering children of the forest whom they in-
duced to forsake paganism and to l>ecome Christians. From
hence they started on their lonely pilgrimages to carry the gospel
of peace to the savage tribes beyond Lakes Huron and Supeiior,
on the head waters of the Mississippi and in the frozen regions
of Hudson's Bay. It was long the rendezvous of the voyageur
and GO wrier de hois, of the trapper and trader, those pioneers
of civilization ; the entrepdt of the Hudson's Bay Company,
thii.t giant monopoly which asserted its supremacy over a terri-
tor ^ ';\rly as large as the whole of Europe.

Many are the thrilling traditions of raids and foray against
the intant colony and mission, of the massacres, captivities and
rescues of its inhabitants ; many are the weird, wild legends,
many the glorious, historical souvenirs clustering around the
grand old city. It has been the scene of some of the most im-
portant events which have occurred upon the continent. In
fancy I beheld the ghosts of those who have lived and acted
here, stalk o'er the scene. Jesuit and Kecollet, friars black and
friars grey, monks and nuns, gay plumed cavaliers and sturdy
bourgeois, men of knightly name and red-skinned warriors of
the woods, thronged, in phantom wise, the ancient market
square. The deep thunder of the ten-o'clock gun from the fort
rolled and reverberated from shore to shore. It broke the
spell of the past, and " cold reality becanre again a presence."

Anxious to impart as much of a foreign Havour as possible
to my visit, I went to a (juaint old French hotel. The tim-
bered ceilings, deep casements, steep stairways, and unfamiliar
language, gave quite a pi(|uant spice to my entertainment. As
I sat at breakfast next day, in the pleasant parlour, 1 could
look down the long narrow street leading to St. John's gate.
In the bright sunlight passed a ceaseless throng — the young

17G

vjeiv from citadel.

1)11

\l i

and old, the grave and gay, the rich man in his carriage and
the cripple with his crutch — and all alike disappeared beneath
the impenetrable shadow of the archway of the gate, — the
merchant to his villa, the beggar to his straw. So, methought,
life's vast procession wends evermore through the crowded
ways of time, through the awful shadows of the common
portal of the grave to an irrevocable destiny beyond.

If the ancient ramparts are allowed to crumble to ruin, the
citadel, the arx, the true acropolis, is kept in a condition of
most efficient defence. From the " King's Bastion," high in

Old St. John's Gate.

air, a battery of Armstrong guns threatens destruction to every
hostile force. Its steep glacis, deep fosse, solid walls, and
heavy armament, make the fort, I jshould think, impregnable.
The view from Cape Diamond is superb, and thrilling with
heroic associations. Directly opposite, at the distance of a mile
or more, is Point Levis, whence Wolfe shelled the doomed city
till the famished inhabitants wrote, "We are without hope and
without food ; God hath forsaken us." There is the broad
sweep of the Beauport shore, which Montcalm had lined with
his earthworks for seven miles.

Yonder is the steep cliff at Montmorenci. where, in desperate

ill'

THE URSULINE CONVENT.

\rt

assault, four hundred men, the flower of the British army, fell
dead or dying on the gory slope. There lay the fleet against
which, again and again, the fire rafts were launched. A little
above is the path by which the conquering army climbed the
clifl". That placid plain where the cattle graze was the scene
of the death-wrestle between the opposing hosts. Through
yonder gates the fugitive army fled and the victors pursued.
From these ramparts the hungry eyes of the despairing garrison
looked in vain fo' ships of succour to round yon headland.
Immediately beneath this cliff" the gallant Montgomery fell cold
and stark beneath the winter tempest, and the falling snow
became his winding-sheet.

In the prosecution of certain historical investigations 1
visited several of the oldest institutions in the city — the Ursu-
line Convent, the Hotel Dieu, the Laval Seminary, etc. The
convent is the oldest in America, founded in 16'i9, and has a
strange romantic history, indissolubly linked with the memo-
ries of the devout enthusiasts, Madame de la Peltrie and Marie
de rincarnation. I had a long conversation, through a double
grating, with a soft- voiced nun, who gave me viwx-.a information
and an engraving of the convent, and detailed two of the
young ladies in attendance to show me the chapel containing
the tomb of Montcalm, several valuable paintings, and certain
rather apocryphal relics from the Catacombs of Rome.

The Hotel Dieu, founded in 1639 by the famous niece of
Cardinal Richelieu, the Duchesse d'Aiguillon, is a vast and
quaint old structure. Here are preserved a silver bust of Bre-
bceuf, the missionary to the Hurons who, in 1G49, was burned
at the stake at St. Ignace, near the site of Penetanguisi one.
His skull and other relics are also preserved, and are said to
have wrought marvellous miracles of healing, and even, more
remarkable still, to have led to the conversion of a inost obsti-
nate heretic — heretique plus oplnidtre. On my first visit
several years ago, by a special favour I was permitted to see
these, which were in a private part of the nunnery, also a pic-
ture of the martyrdom. I rang a bell and soon heard a vo^e
at a perforated disc in the wall, although I could see no (»iu».
I was told to knock at a certain door, but not to enter till the

178

HOTEL DIE 17.

person who would unlock it had gone away, because the clois-
tered nuns had no communication with the outer world. I
did so, and made a careful study of the bust and other historic
relics. I was told that Parkman, the historian, had shortly be-
fore visited the place for a similar purpose. An aged nun was
greatly interested in the traditions of her house, with which I
seemed more familiar than herself, although she had been an
inmate for over fifty years. Another nun (Sister St. Patrick,
by the way, was her conventual name), when she found I was

Esi'LAN.utE, Quebec.

a Protestant heretic, manifested deep concern for my conversion
to the Catholic faith, out of which, .,hG solemnly assured me,
there was no salvation, ani^ promised me her prayers to that
effect. Her earnestness and zeal for the welfare of a stranger
were worthy of imitation by lukewarm Proti'stants.

On a re<H5ut visit J was not admitted to these inner fene-
t)\tlia, but the bust was brought to an outer room for my in-
spection. In a rtH>m fittt'd up as a sort of chapel, with a little
altar at one side, tt fow nuns and convalescent inmates were

t-S:;£-?H

LAVAL SEMINARY.

179

holding a religious service. The singing, accompanied by a
violin played by a delicate-looking man, was very sweet and
plaintive. In the reception-room of the Good Shepherd Con-
vent, where seventy nuns teach seven hundred children, one of
the " grey sisters " was reading her breviary, measuring the
time by a sand-glass, ever and anon shaking the glass as if
impatient that the sand ran so slowly. It was a page out of
the middle ages. I saw nothing more quaint since I visited a
large Beguinage at Ghent.

I walked out to Sillery, about a league from town, over
the battle-field and through the lovely grounds of Spencer
Wood, overlooking the noble river. At Sillery is the identical
old mission-house from which Brfeboenf, Lalemant, Jogues, and

many more set forth, well-nigh
two centuries and a half ago, to
carry the gospel of peace to the
savage tribes beyond Lakes Hu-
ron and Superior, and in the re-
gions of Hudson Bay; they toiled
for years with the rimost zeal,
and many of them sealti * their
testimony with their blood.

At the Laval Seminary, vvhich
has four hundred students, I
was shown, in an authentic por-
trait, the clear-cut, haughty
features of the astute and politic
founder of the institution — a scion of the princely house of
Montmorenci, the first bishop of Quebec, who for thirty years
(16.59-1689) swayed the religious destiny of Canada. The Laval
University, ?, noble pile, commemorates his name. It contains
a fine library and museum, and a gallery of paintings contain-
ing original Salvators, Teniers, Vernets, a Tintoret, a Poussin,
and others of considerable value.

In the chapel of the Laval .Seminary are — or were, for several
of these have been destroyed by fire — some of the finest paint-
ings in Canada. One picture of the crucifixion greatly im-
pressed me. The background is formed by dense black clouds,
traversed by a lurid lightning flash. In the foreground stands

Sous LE Cap Alley.

lit.

It]

180

QUAINT STREETS.

the cross from which depends the lifeless body of Christ. It
is the only figure in the picture. The feeling of forlornness Is
intense. There are no weeping Marys, no fearful Johns, re-
morseful Peters, or brutal soldiers, which but distract the
attention. But instead thereof, at the foot of the cross lies a
soliUry human skull reminding one of Tenny.son's lines,

" Thou madeafc life, thou niadesb death, thy foot
Is on tho skull that thou hast made."'

The oldest church
in the city is that of
Notre Dame de la
Victoire.in the lower
town — a quaint old
structure erected to
commemorate the

^N victory over Sir Wm.

\ Phipps' fleet in 1690.

.A An age-embrowned

l^-i picture in the in-
terior represents Our
Lady of Victory scat-
tering with the tem-
pest the heretic fleet.
Among the stran-
gest sights in Que-
bec are the narrow
streets nan:ed Sous
le Fort and Sous le
Cap. The latter is
a crowded abode of
squalor, crouching
beneath the lofty
clifl", with the least
possible allowance of
air, and light, and
space. The interi-
ors seem mere caves of darkness, and in one I noticed a
lamp burning in midday. Aiiother narrow street on the slope

'■>'»J^MJ=i.Ji

A Street in Quebec.

OLD GATES.

181

to the upper town is quite impassable for carriages on account
of its steepness, which is overcome by nearly a hundred steps.
The French are evidently very sociable beings. They can
easily converse, and almost shake hands across some of their
narrow streets. One of the most quaint old structures is that
in which Montcalm held his last council of war, on the eve of
the conquest. It is now — " to what base uses must we come ! "
— a barber shop. The timbered ceiling, thick walls, low steep
roof, huge chimney and curious dormers, are interesting sou-

Olu French House, Quebec.

venirs of the old regime. Similar in character is the house in
which his body was laid out.

There were till recently five gates permitting ingress and
egress between the old town and the outside world. They
were of solid wood framing, heavily studded with iron, opening
into gloomy, vault-like passages, through scowling, stern-
browed guard-houses, with grim-looking cannon frowning
through the embrasures overhead, and long, narrow loopholes
on either side, suggestive of leaden pills not very easy of

,J I

182

77/A- LOWER TOWN.

digestion. Several of these, with the modern structures by
which they have been superseded, are illustnited in our cuts.

At the ba.se of the cliif', and between it and the river, lies
the lower town. The houses are huddled toj^ether in admir-
able disorder. The streets — narrow, tortuous and .steep, with
high, quaint, antique-looking houses on either side — remind
one of the wynds and closes of Edinburgh, nor is the illusion
les.sened by the filth and squalor inseparable from such .sur-
roundings. Some of the streets seemed half squeezed to death,
as if by physical compression between the cliflf and river, others

Old Hope Gate, Block, and Guard-house. >

are wide and wealthy, lined with wholesale warehouses and
stores. On the front of the new Post Office is a curious effigy
of a dog, carved in .stone and gilded, under which is the fol-
lowing inscription : —

" Je suis un chiea qui ronge I'os ;
En le rongeant je prend moii repos.
Un temps viendra qui n'est pas venu
Que je mordrais qui m'aura niordu."

THE GOLPE.X DOG.

183

Tliis has been thus translated by Mr. Kirby:

"I urn a dog who f{i»Hwa my bono,
And at my ease I gnaw alono,
Tlio time will come, which is net yot,
When I will hito him hy whom I'm bit."

This ler^end has been tlie motif of one of the best liistorlcal
tales ever written — " The Chien d'Or," by William Kirby, Esq.,
of Niagara. I had the pleasure of reading this story in fifteen
manuscript volumes. It is by far the best delineation of old
colonial life and character I ever read. It is remarkable, not

C'JTADKL FROM THK VV'llARF.

only from the interest of its
plot, but also for the elegance of
its diction. I know no work in
which the unities of time and place are so well maintained.
Two-thirds of the book cover a period of only thirty-six hours
and the whole, a period of three months.

Durham Terrace, one of the most delightful promenades in
the world, is built on the foundation arches of the old Palais
Saint Louis, the chateau of the early French Governors, im-
pending immediately ov;r c)i.> lower town. The view there-
from is magnificent: tht broad bosom of the St. Lawrence, of
mingled sapphire and 0}';ii, studded with the snowy sails of
ships flocking portwards like doves to their windows: the silver
waters of the St. Charles ; the beautiful Island of Orleans, like

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Sciences

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WEBSTER, N.y. MSSO

(71«) 872-4503

)

184

DURHAM TERRACE.

an emerald ^em on the river's breast; and Point Levis crouching
at the opposite shore, form a picture not often equalled nor
easily forgotten The view from the Citadel is more command-

ing still. We drove through a lofty gateway, the leaves of
which were formed of interlaced iron chains, immensely strong.
We then crossed a wide, deep fosse, between high stone walls,
and passed through a sally-port into the fortress. A soldier,
off duty, courteously conducted us around the walls He did

THE CITADEL.

185

Chain Gate.

not seem by any means anxious for war, nor did any of the
many soldiers whose opinions I have from time to time elicited.
I find invariably that those who have seen active service, and

have known the
horrors of war, are
much less eager for
a fray than those
carpet knights who
talk so bravely be-
fore the ladies, and
fiffht so valorouslv
[j through the news-
papers.

I witne.ssed some
raw recruits going
through the bayo-
net drill, and being
instructed by a
spruce looking ser-
geant, with a long butcher-knife girt to his side, in the useful
and elegant accomplish- ^_

inent of spitting their
fellow-men. All these
things but quickened
my aspirations for the
time when righteousness
and peace shall kiss each
other, and the nations
learn war no more. The
fort is a sort of star
shape, and to roe ap-
peared absolutely im-
pregnable. From the
Yamparts one can leap
sheer down three hun-
dred feet. For short
ranges this great altitude is, however, a defect, it being im-
possible to depress the guns sufficiently to command the river

Mabtello Towbb.

186

BEFORE THE BATTLE.

beneath. The view of the winding Moselle and storied Rhine
fronj the fortress height of Ehrenbreitstein, is one that has
been greatly extolled ; but to my mind the view from this his-
toric rock is incomparable. The Martello Tower, in our cut, is
one of several that protect the city.

THE CONQUEST OF CANADA.

The story of the battle which transferred half a continent
from France to Britain has been often told, but will, perhaps,
bear repeating.

On the early moonless morning of September 13th, 1759,

before day, the
British Beet drop-
ped silently down
the river with the
ebbing tide, ac-
companied by
thirty barges con-
taining sixteen
hundred men,
which, with muf-
fled oars, closely hugged the shadows of the shore. Pale and
weak with recent illness, Wolfe reclined among his officers,
and, in a low tone, blending with the rippling of the river,
recited several stanzas of the recent poem, Gray's " Elegy
written in a Country Churchyard." Perhaps the shadow of his
own approaching fate stole upon his mind, as in mournful
cadence he • /hispered the strangely-prophetic words, —

" The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,

And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er Rave,
Alike await the inaao^^le hour ;
Tlie paths of glory lead but to the grave. "

With a prescience of the hoUowness of military renown, he ,
exclaimed, " I would rather have written those lines than take
Quebec to-morrow."

Challenged by an alert sentry, an officer gave the counter-
sign, which had been learned from a French deserter, and the

Inside Citadel.

CLIMBING THE CLIFF,

187

.H'j.iiiriiiifl^jifaiiii'iC— ■

little flotilla was mistaken for a convoy of provisions expected
from Montreal. Landing in the deeply-shadowed cove, the
agile Highlanders climbed lightly up the steep and narrow path
leading to the sum-
mit. "Qui Vive?" de.
manded the watchful
sentinel. "La France,"
replied Captain Mc-
Donald, the Highland
officer in command,
and, in a moment, the
guard was over-pow-
ered. The troops
swarmed rapidly up
the rugged precipice, aiding themselves by the roots end
branches of the stunted spruces and savins ; the barges mean-
while promptly transferring fresh reinforcements from the fleet.

St. John's Oati.

Old Pbkscott Gaxb.

With much difficulty a single field-piece was dragged up the

rugged steep.

When the sun rose, the plain was glittering with the arms of

188

THE MARSHALLED HOSTS.

»3mR>r^,

St. John's Gate in Winteb.

plaided Highlanders and English red-coats, forming for battle.
The redoubled fire from Point Levis and from a portion of the
fleet, upon Quebec and the lines of Beauport, detained Montcalm

below the city, and completely
deceived him as to the main
point of attack. A breath-
less horseman conveyed the
intelligence at early dawn.
At first incredulous, the gal-
lant commander was soon con-
vinced of the fact, and ex-
claimed, "Then they have got
the weak side of this wretched
garrison, but we . must fight
and crush them;" and the roll
of drums and peal of bugles
on the fresh morning air summoned the scattered army to ac-
tion. With tumultuous haste, the skeleton regiments hurried
through the town, and, about nine o'clock, formed in long,
thin lines upon the

Plains of Abraham, } ,* \

without waiting for
artillery, except two
small field-pieces
brought from the
city. This was Mont-
calm's great and fatal
mistake. Had he re-
mained behind the
ramparts of Quebec,
he could probably
have held out till the
approach of winter
would have compelled

the retreat of the British. Including militia and regulars, the
French numbered seven thousand five hundred famine-wasted
and disheartened men, more than half of whom were, in the
words of Wolfe, " a disorderly peasantry." Opposed to them

^->"if^^^^,.

New St. Louis Oati.

.i^l^S^jki.

THE BATTLE.

189

were less than five thousand* veteran troops, eager for the
fray, and strong in their confidence in their beloved general.

Wolfe passed rapidly
along the line, cheering
his men, and exhorting
them not to fire without
orders. Firm as a wall
they awaited the onset
of the French. In sil-
ence they filled the ghast-
ly gaps made in their
ranks by the fire of the
foe. Not for a moment
wavered the steady line.
Not a trigger was pulled
till the enemy arrived
within about forty yards.
Then, at Wolfe's ring-
ing word of command, a simultaneous volley flashed from the

New Kbnt Qatb.

Old Hops Gate.
levelled guns, and tore through the French ranks. As the
'*The exact number was 4,828. That of the French is catimated at 7,520.

190

THE BATTLE.

smoke-wreaths rolled away upon the morning breeze, a ghastly
sight was seen. The French line was broken and disordered,
and heaps of wounded strewed the plain. Gallantly resisting,
they received another deadly volley. With cheer on cheer the

-/^"^

Thk Dkath of Wolk.

British charged before they could reform, and swept the fugi-
tives from the field, pursuing them to the city gates, and to the
banks of the St. Charles. In fifteen minutes was lost and won
the battle that gave Canada to Great Britain. The British
loss was fifty-seven killed, and six hundred wounded ; that of
the French was fifteen hundred killed, wounded, and prisoners.

DEATH OF WOLFE.

191

Beside the multitude slain on either side, whose death carried
desolation into many a humble home, were the brave com-
manders of the opposing hosts. Almost at the first fire, Wolfe
was struck by a bullet that shattered his wrist. Binding a
handkerchief round the wound, he led the way to victory. In
a moment, a ball pierced
his side, but he still cheered
on his men. Soon a third
shot lodged deep in his
breast. Staggering into the
arms of an officer, he ex-
claimed, " Support me ! Let
not my brave fellows see
me fall." He was borne to
the rear and gently laid
upon the ground. "See!
they run !" exclaimed one
of the officers standing by.
"Who run?" demanded
Wolfe, arousing as from a
swoon. "The enemy, sir;
they give way everywhere,"
was the reply. "What!
already?" said the dying
man, and he gave orders
to cut off their retreat
" Now, God be praised," he
murmured, "I, die content,"
and he gently breathed his
last.

His brave adversary,
Montcalm, also fell mor-
tally wounded, and was
borne from the field. " How long shall I live ? " he asked
the surgeon. " Not many hours," was the reply. " I am glad
of it," he caid; "I shall not see the surrender of Quebec."
He refused to occupy his mind longer with earthly concerns.
To De Ramsay, who commanded the garrison, and who sought

Wolfe's New Mondment.

192

MONTCALM.

his advice as to the defence of the city, he said : " My time is
short, so pray leave me. To your keeping I commend the
honour of France. I wish you all comfort and a happy deliver-
ance from your perplexities. As for me, I would be alone with
Qod, and prepare for death." To another he said : " Since it is
my misfortune to be defeated and mortally wounded, it is a
great consolation that I have been defeated by so great and
generous an enemy." He died before midnight, and, coffined in
a rude box, was buried amidst the tears of his soldiers in a
grave made by the bursting of a shell. So perished a noble-

Old St. Louis Gati.

hearted man, a skilful general and an incorruptible patriot. At
a time when the civil officers of the crown, with scarce an ex-
ception, were battening like vampires on the life-blood of the
colony, Montcalm lavished his private resources, and freely
gave up his life in its behalf.

Near the scene of their death, a grateful people have erected
a common monument to the rival commanders, who generously
recognized each other's merit in life, and now keep for ever-
more the solemn truce of death. The two races which met in
the shock of battle dwell together in loving fealty, beneath the
protecting folds of one common flag.

ARNOLDS SIEGE OF QUEBEC.

193

In the year 1776 Benedict Arnold, who subsequently gained
eternal infamy by the base attempt to betray the fortress of
West Point, attempted the capture of Quebec, and had secret
correspondents among its inhabitants. In the month of Sep-
tember, with a force of nearly a thousand men, among whom
was Aaron Burr, a future Vice-Presitient of the United States,
he toiled up the swift current of the Kennebec and Dead Rivers,
to the head-waters of those streams. With incredible labour
they conveyed their boats and stores through the tangled wil-
derness to the Ghaudi&re, and sailed down its tumultuous cur-
rent to the St. Lawrence. Their sufferings through hunger,
cold, fatigue, and exposure, were excessive. They were re-
duced to eat the flesh of dogs, and even to gnaw the leather of
their cartouch-boxes and shoes. Their barges had to be
dragged against the rapid stream one hundred and eighty miles,
and carried forty miles over rugged portages on men's shoulders.
Their number was reduced by sickness, exhaustion and deser-
tion, to seven hundred men before they reached the St. Law-
rence, and only six hundred were fit for military service.
Without artillery, with damaged guns and scanty ammunition,
with wretched clothing and imperfect commissariat, they were
to attempt the capture of the strongest fortress in America.

On the night of November the 13th, Arnold, having con-
structed a number of canoes, conveyed the bulk of his meagre
army across the river, and, without opposition, climbed the
cliff by Wolfe's path, and appeared before the walls of the
upper town. He sent a flag of truce to demand the surrender
of the place ; but the flag was not received, and no answer to
the summons was deigned. Having failed to surprise the town,
and despairing, with his footsore and ragged regiments, with
no artillery, and with only five rounds of ammunition, of tak-
ing it by assault, he retired to Point-aux-Trembles, some
twenty miles up the river, to await a junction with Mont-
gomery.

The entire population of Quebec was about five thousand,
and the garrison numbered eighteen hundred in all, consisting
of about a thousand British and Canadian militia, three hun-
dred regulars, and a body of seamen and marines from the
18

104

DEATH OF MONTGOMERY.

&hips in the harbour. The place was provisioned for eight
montha

On the 4th of December, the united forces of Arnold and
Montgomery, amounting to about twelve hundred in all, ad-
vanced against Quebec. Garleton refused to hold any com-
munication with them, and the besieging army encamped in
the snow before the walls. Its scanty artillery produced no
effect upon the impregnable ramparts. Biting frost, the fire of
the garrison, pleu- -.^ -^-^-^.-u.

risy,and the small-
pox did their fatal
work. The only
hope of success
was by assault,
which must be made
before the close of the
year, when the period
of service of many of the
men expired.

On the last day of the
year, therefore, a double
attack was made on the
lower town, the object of
which was to effect a junction
forces, and then to storm the upper
town. At four o'clock in the
morning, in a blinding snowstorm,
Montgomery, with five hundred
men, crept along the narrow pass
between Gape Diamond and the
river. The western approach to the town was defended by a
block-house and a battery. As the forlorn-hope made a dash
for the barrier, a volley of grape swept through their ranks.
Montgomery, with two of his officers and ten men, were slain.
The deepening snow wrapped them in its icy shroud, while
their comrades retreated in utter discomfiture.

On the other side of the town, Arnold, with six hundred men,
attacked and carried the first barriers: The alarm bells rang,

Faor of Citadel Cliff.

■^•,H"»S;."

THE FORTRESS CITY.

195

the drums beat to arms, the garrison rallied to the defence.
The assaulting party pressed on, and many entered the town
through the embrasures of a battery, and waged a stubborn
fight in the narrow streets, amid the storm and darkness.
With the dawn of morning, they found themselves surrounded
by an overwhelming force, and exposed to a withering fire
from the houses. They therefore surrendered at discretion, to
the number of four hundred men.

The many memories of this old historic spot are well cele-
brated in the following vigorous verses of His Excellency the
Marquis of Lome :

O fortress city 1 bathed by streams

Majestic as thy memoiies great,

Where ti'ii tains, flood and forests mate
The grandeur of the glorious dreams,

T'orn of the hero hearts who died

In forming here an empire's pride ;
Prosperity attend thy fate,

And happiness in thee abide.
Fair Canada's strong tower and gate 1

For all must drink delight whose feet

Have paced the streets or terrace way ;

From rampart sod, or bastion gray,
nave marked thy sea-like river great,

The bright and peopled banks that shine

In front of the far mountain's line ;
Thy glittering roofs below, the play

Of currents where the ships entwine
Their spars, or laden pass away.

As we who joyously once rode

So often forth to trumpet sound,

Past guarded spates, by ways that wound
O'er drawbridges, through moats, and showed

The vast St. Lawrence flowing, belt

The Orleans Isle, and seaward melt ;
Then past old walls, by cannon crowned,

Down stair-like streets, to where we felt
The salt winds blown o'er meadow ground.

Where flows the Charles past wharf and dock,

And learning from Laval looks down,

And quiet convents grace the town,
There swift to meet the battle shock

196 TO MONTMORENCI.

Montcalm rushed on ; and eddying back,
Red slaughter marked the bridge's track ;

See now the shores with lumber brown,
And girt with happy laads that lack

No loveliness of summer's crown.

Quaint hamlet-alleys, border-filled

With purple lilacs, poplars tall,

Where flits the yellow bird, and fall
The deep eave shadows. There when tilled

The peasant's field or garden bed.

He rests content if o'er his head
From silver spires the church bells call

To gorgeous shrines and prayers that gild
The simple hopes and lives of all. . . .

The glory of a gracious land.

Fit home for many a hardy race ;

Where liberty has broadest base.
And labour honours every hand.

Throughout her triply thousand miles

The sun upon each season smiles.
And every man has scope and space,

And kindliness from strand to strand,
Alone is borne to right of place.

TO MONTMORENCI.

The drive from Quebec to the Montmorenci is one of the
loveliest conceivable. We mount the caleche, a queer, nonde-
script sort of carriage, and are whirled rapidly along. Emerg-
ing from the narrow, tortuoiis streets — in which the wind
has hardly room to turn round, and if it had would be sure
to get lost, so crooked are they — we pass through the
portals of Palace Gate, now removed. The road wanders
carelessly along the river side, past old, red-roofed chateaux,
moss-covered, many -gabled, memory-haunted ; by spruce and
beautiful modern suburban villas, through quaint old hamlets,
with double or triple rows of picturesque dormer windows in
the steep, mossy roof, with the invariable " Church of Our
Lady," the guardian angel of the scene, from whose cross-
crowned spire the baptized and consecrated bells "sprinkle
with holy sounds the air, as a priest with his hyssop the con-
gregation " — through sweet-scented hay fields, where the new
mown grass breathes out its fragrance — past quaint, thatch-

THE COTE DE BE A UP RE.

197

roofed bams and granges, "where stand the broad-wheeled
wains, the antique ploughs and the harrows" — past the crowded
dove-cots where " the sui>surus and coo of the pigeons whis-
pereth ever of love" — past the fantastic-looking windmills,
brandishing their stalwart arms as if eager for a fray — past
the rustic wayside crosses, each with an image of the Christ
waving hands of benediction over the pious wayfarers who
pause a moment in their journey to whisper a Pater Noster or

Old Palace Gate.

an Ave Maria — past all these onward still wanders the roadway,
on our right the silver St. Lawrence, on our left the sombre-
hued Laurentian mountains, and far behind us the old, high-
walled, strong-gated, feudal city. As we drive along, little
children run beside our carriage offering flowers, asking alms ;
dusk-eyed, olive-skinned girls are hay-making in the meadows
or spinning in the doorways ; and the courteous habitant with
his comical chapeau and scarlet sash bows politely as we pass.
Really one can hardly resist the illusion that he is travelling
through Picardy or Artois, or some rural district of Old France.

198

FALLS OF MONTMORENCL

In the meantime we hare been rapidly nearing the Falls,
which can now be heard " calling to us from afar off."

The best view of a waterfall is confessedly from below, so let
us descend. We must here leave our carriage and clamber
down as best we can. Now that we are down, how high
these bluffs appear. And lo! the fall in all its glory bursts
on our view. The river hurls itself over a cliff two hundred
and fifty feet high immediately into tide water. The fall is

■ A Caleohe.

about fifty or sixty feet wide. How glorious it is ! Half as
high again as Niagara, but not nearly so wide. We are so
close that we can feel the torrent's breath upon our cheeks.
What a majesty crowns that hoary brow ! What dazzling
brightness hath that snowy front ! It seems to pour out of the
very sky. A huge black rock gores and tears the foamy
torrent, rending its waving skirts from bottom to top. We sit
and gaze upon that awful front till it becomes an imperishable
picture in the brain, " a thing of beauty and a joy forever."
Here the ruthless men of money have beguiled a portion of the

..*-.

THE GIANTS STAIRS.

199

unsuspected river along that aqueduct, and now fetter its wil(i
gambolling, harness it like Ixion to a never-resting wheel, and
make it ignominiously work for a living like a bound galley-
slave.

The " Giant's Stairs," or " Marches Naturelle," are a flight
of broad, natural steps, terrace above terrace, like a noble
vestibule. Through these the river, in the lapse of centuries,
has worn for itself a deep and narrow gorge, in places not more
than twelve feet wide, down which it chafes and frets and
fumes very wrathfuUy. See there, in its hot haste it has
hurled itself right against that rude rock that stands forever
in the way. It goes off limping and looking very angry. It
froths and foams, and looks so wicked, I shouldn't wonder if
it were swearing in its own way. That's just the way with
impetuous, hot-headed rivers — and men, too. They vex. them-
selves into a foaming passion, and invariably come off worse in
their encounters with the grand old majesty and impassiveness
of Nature.

The following is the account of this fall given by that
veteran traveller. Bayard Taylor: — "A safe platform leads
along the rocks to a pavilion on a point at the side of the fall,
and on a level with it. Here the gulf, nearly three hundred
feet deep, with its walls of chocolate- coloured earth, and its
patches of emerald herbage, wet with eternal spray, opens
to the St. Lawrence. Montmorenci is one of the loveliest
waterfalls. In its general characucr it bears some resemblance
to the Pisse-Vache, in Switzerland, which, however, is much
smaller. The water is snow-white, tinted, in the heaviest por-
tions of the fall, with a soft yellow, like that of raw silk. In
fact, broken as it is by the irregular edge of the rock, it reminds
one of masses of silken, flossy skeins, continually overlapping
one another as they fall. At the bottom, dashed upon a pile of
rocks, it shoots far out in s^-^r Ht'» radii of spray, which share
the regular throb or pulsation of the falling masses. The edges
of the fall flutter out into lace-like points and fringes, which
dissolve into gauze as they descend."

The old French hahitanta call the Montmorenci Fall La Vache
(" The Cow "), on account of the resemblance of its foaming

mim

200

QUEBEC IN VERSE

waters to milk. Others attribute this name to the noise like
the lowing of a cow which is made by the fall during the preva-
lence of certain winds. Immediately about the basin and
along the Montniorenci River, many severe actions took place
during Wolfe's siege of Quebec. This river was for a time the
location of the picket-lines of the British and French armies.

QUEBEC IN LITERATURE.

The resources of prose and verse have been exhausted in
describing the beauty of this quaint old city. Sangster thus
apostrophises it : '

Quebec ! how regally it crowns the height,
Like a tanned giant on a solid throne !
Unmindful of the sanguinary fight,

The roar of cannon mingling with the moan *

Of mutilated soldiers years agone.
That gave the place a glory and a name
Amon'j the nations. Franco was heard to (rroan ;
England rejoiced, but checked the proud acclaim —
A brave young chief had fall'n to vindicate her fame.

Wolfe and Montcalm ! two nobler names ne'er graced
The page of history, or the hostile plain ;
No braver souls the storm of battle faced.
Regardless of the danger or the pain.
They pass'd unto their rest without a stain
Upon their nature or their generous hearts.
One graceful column to the noblu twain
Speaks of a nation's gratitude, and starts
The tear that Valour claims, and Feeling's self imparts.

Down the rough slope Montmorenci's torrent pours,
We cannot view it by this feeble ray,
But hark ! its thunders leap along the shores.
Thrilling the cliifs that guard the beauteous bay;
And now the moon shines on our downw.ird way.
Showing fair Orleans' enchanting Isle,
Its fields of grain, and meadows sweet with hay ;
Along the fertile shores fresh landscapes smile.
Cheering the watchful eye for many a pleasant mile.

" I rubbed my eyes," says Thoreau, describing the entrance
through the ancient Frescott Gate, " to be sure that I was in

AND IN PROSE.

201

the nineteenth century, and was not entering one of those
portals which sometimes adorn the frontispiece of old black-
letter volumes. I thought it would be a good place to read
Froissart's Chronicles. It was such a reminiscence of the
Middle Ages as Scott's novels."

"Whilst the surrounding scenery reminds one of the un-
rivalled views of the Bosphorus," says another tourist, "the airy
site of the citadel and town calls to mind Innspruck and Edin-
burgh. Quebec may be best described by supposing that an
ancient Norman fortress of two centuries ago had been encased
in amber, transported by magic to Canada, and placed on the
summit of Cape Diamond."

" Leaving the Citadel," says Sir Charles Dilke, " we are once
more in the European Middle Ages. Gates and posterns, cranky
steps that lead up to lofty, gabled houses, with sharp French
roofs of burnished tin, like those of Liege ; processions of the
Host; altars decked with flowers; statues of the Virgin;
sabots ; blouses ; and the scarlet of the British linesman, — all
these are seen in narrow streets and markets that are graced
with many a Cotentin lace cap, and all within forty miles of
the down-east, Yankee State of Maine. It is not far from New
England to Old France."

" Curious old Quebec ! " says Henry Ward Beecher, " of all
the cities of the continent of America the most quaint ! It is a
peak thickly populated ! a gigantic rock, escarped, echeloned,
and at the same time smoothed ofl* to hold firmly on its summit
the houses and castles, although according to the ordinary laws
of matter they ought to fall off like a burden placed on a
camel's bacl 'thout fastening. Yet the houses and castles
hold there as if they were nailed down. At the foot of the
rock some feet of land have been reclaimed from the river, and
that is for the streets of the Lower Town. Quebec is a dried
shred of the Middle Ages, hung high up near the North Pole,
far from the beaten paths of the European tourists, a curiosity
without parallel on this side of the ocean. We traversed each
street as we would have turned the leaves of a book of engrav-
ings, containing a new painting on each page."

"On a summer evening when Durham Terrace is covered

202

CHAMPLAIN.

with loungers, and Point Levis is sprinkled with lights and the
Lower Town has illuminated its narrow streets and its rows
of dormer-windows, while the lively murmur of business is
heard and the eye can discern the great shadows of the ships
beating into port, the scene is one of marvellous animation.
It is then, above all, that one is struck with the resemblance
between Quebec and the European cities ; it might be called a
city of France or Italy transplanted ; the physiognomy is the
same, and daylight is needed to mark the alteration of features
produced by the passage to America."

THE POUNDER OF QUEBEC.

The story of the founding and early history of this grand
old city are of fascinating interest. On the 3rd of July, 1608,
Samuel de Champlain reached the narrows of the river, where
frown the craggy heights of Quebec. Here, beneath the tall
cliff of Cape Diamond, he laid the foundations of one of the
most famous cities of the New World.* A wooden fort was
erected, on the site of the present market-place of the Lower
Town, and was surrounded by a palisade, loop-holed for mus-
ketry. The whole was enclosed by a moat, and three small
cannon guarded the river-front. The colonists were soon com-
fortably housed, and land was cleared for tillage. The €rm
discipline maintained by Champlain, provoked a conspiracy
for his murder. It was discovered, the ringleader was hanged,
and his fellow-conspirators shipped in chains to France.
Champlain was left with twenty-eight men to hold a continent.
His nearest civilized neighbours were the few English colonists
at Jamestown, Virginia. The long and cruel winter was a
season of tragical disaster and suffering. Before spring, of that
little company, only eight remained alive. The rest had all
miserably perished by the loathsome scurvy. The timely
arrival of succours from France saved the little colony from
extinction.

* The name Quebec, Champlain positively asserts, was the Indian designa-
tion of the narrows of the St. Lawrence at this point, the word signifying
a strait. Canada is the Indian word for a collection of huts, and enters
into ^he composition of several native names.

HIS CHARACTER.

203

After many adventures, including a canoe voyage to the
shores of Lake Huron, a war expedition with the Huron tribes
against the Iroquois south of Lake Ontario, a retreat on foot
in midwinter to the Huron country, and a return after a year's
absence to Quebec, Champlain devoted himself to fostering the
growth of the colony. Quebec was as yet only surrounded by
wooden walls. To strengthen its defences, the energetic Gov-
ernor built a stone fort in the Lower Town, and on the magnifi-
cent heights overlooking the broad St. Lawrence, one of the
noblest sites in the world, he began the erection of the Castle
of St. Louis, the residence of successive Governors of Canada
down to 1834, when it was destroyed by firo.

But the labours of Champlain's busy life, spent in the service
of his native or adopted country, were drawing to a close. In
October, 1635, being then in the sixty-eighth year of his age,
he was smitten with his mortal illness. For ten weeks he lay
in the Castle of St. Louis, unable even to sign his name, but
awaiting with resignation the Divine will. On Christmas Day,
the brave soul passed away. The body of the honoured
founder of Quebec was buried beneath the lofty cliff which
overlooks the scene of his patriotic toil. The character of
Champlain was more like that of the knight-errant of mediaeval
romance than that of a soldier of the practical seventeenth
century in which he lived. He had greater virtues and fewer
faults than most men of his age. In a time of universal license
his life was pure. With singular magnanimity, he devoted
himself to the interests of his patrons. Although traffic with
the natives was very lucrative, he carefully refrained from
engaging in it. His sense of justice was stern, yet his conducl
was tempered with mercy. He won the unfaltering confidence
of the Indian tribes; suspicious) of others, in him they had
boundless trust. His zeal for the spread of Christianity was
intense. The salvation of one soul, he was wont to declare,
was of more importance than the founding of an empire. His
epitaph is written in the record of his busy lire. For weii-
nigh thirty years, he laboured without stint, and against almost
insuperable difficulties, for the struggling colony. A score of
times he crossed the Atlantic in the tardy, incommodious, and

204

DEATH OF CHAMPLAIN.

often scurvy-smitten vessels of the period, in order to advance
its interests. His name is embalmed in the history of his

adopted country, and still lives in the memory of a grateful
people, and in the designation of the beautiful lake on which

THE UPPER ST. LAWRENCE.

205

he. first of white men, sailed. His widow, originally a Hugue-
not, espoused her husband's faith, and died a nun at Meaux in
1654. His account of his voyage to Mexico, and his history of
New France, bear witness to his literary skill and powers of
observation; and his summary of Christian doctrine, written
for the native tribes, is a touching monument of his piety.

QUEBEC TO MONTREAL.

The river route to Montreal is much less picturesque than
the lower St Lawrence, but is by no means devoid of interest.
The bold bluffs of Point Levis on the south shore, the vast
timber coves on the north, and the quaint village of Sillery,
are soon passed. Midway between Quebec and Montreal, at
the mouth of the St. Maurice, is the ancient city of Three
Rivers, founded in 1618. Its chief feature is the stately pile
of Roman Catholic conventual and collegiate buildings, and
the large cathedral. Its population is about ten thousand.

Lake St. Peter is a wide but shallow expansion of the St.
Lawrence, through which a ship channel is buoyed out. Here
immense timber rafts are often seen, like floating villages, with
bellying sails and long sweeps, and the wooden houses and
earthen hearths of the lumbermen. The scene by night, as the
weird-looking figures dance around their far-gleaming fires, to
the animated strains of " Via I'bon vent," or " En roulant ma
houle," is strangely picturesque. Sometimes in stormy weather
these rafts will be knocked to pieces by the waves, and much
valuable timber will be lost, or so drifted about that the cost of
collecting it involves an almost ruinous expense.

Passing the St. Nicholet, St. Francis and Yamaska rivers, we
reach the great river Richelieu, the outlet of Lake Champlain
and Lake George, and long the " gateway to Canada " from the
head waters of the Hudson. At its mouth is the handsome and
historic town of Sorel, on the site of Fort Richelieu, founded in
1641. The very names of the river villages — Contrecceur, Laval-
trie, Berthier, St. Sulpice, Repentigny, Varennes, St. Therfese,
Pointe aux Trembles (from its trembling aspens), and Longueuil ,
are full of poetic and historic associations. We will let Sangster
animate those poetic names :

too THE NORTH SHORE.

Varennet, like a fair Eden purged from guile,
Sits smiling on the night ; yon aged pile
With its bright spires reposing on its breast.
Yonder, the Holy Mountain of Bouville,
Like a huge cloud that had come down to rest,
Looms far against the sky, and on its sombre crest

Shineth the Pilgrim's Gross, that long hath cheered
The weary wanderer from distant lands,
Who, as his stately pinnace onward steered,
Bless'd his Faith's symbol with uplifted hands.
Swift through the Richelieu ! Past the white sands
That spangle fair Batiscan's pleasant shore
We glide, where fairy dwellings dot the strands ;
How gracefully yon aged elms brood o'er
The shrubbery that yearneth for their mystic lore,

When the winds commune with the tell-tale limbs,
And many-voicdd leaves. That is St. Pierre,
Where the tall poplars, which the night bedims,
Lift their sharp outlines through the solemn air.
Past these white cottages to L'Avenir,
Another site of beauty. Lovelier yet
The Plateau, slumbering in the foliage there ;
And gay Cap Sainte, like Wild Love, beset
With wooers, bringing gems to deck her coronet.

At last the villa-studded slopes of Mount Royal come into
view, with the twin towers of Notre Dame, and the magnificent
Victoria Bridge bestriding the river beyond.

One can also reach Montreal expeditiously by the North
Shore Railway. The ride is like a run through Picardy or
Normandy. There is the same quaint foreign appearance of
the scattered hamlets, the queer red-roofed houses, with their
many dormer windows, huge chimneys, and great hospitable
outside ovens. Every six miles rises a large parish church,
with its graceful spire or twin spires, and adjacent Preahythre
or Convent, with their far-flashing tin roofs. At the stations
and on the trains is seen the village cwr4, always with his
breviary, which he almost continuously reads. The country
has been so long settled that most of the original forest is
cleared off; a few clumps of spiry spruces indicating a northern
svlva. The farms run back in narrow ribbands from the main

THE NORTH SHORE.

207

road. Many of the long, low barn» are roofed with thatch,
some are whitewashed, roof and all, and a few long-armed wind-
mills intensify the foreign aspect of the country.

" It could really be called a village," said Kalm, the Swedish
traveller, in 1749, " beginning at Montreal and ending at Que-
bec, which is a distance of more than 180 miles; for the farm-
houses are never more than five arpents apart, and sometimes
but three asunder, a few places excepted." In 1684, La Hontan
said that the houses along these shores were never more than a
gunshot apart. The inhabitants are simple-minded and primi-
tive in their wayfl, tenaciously retaining the Catholic faith and
the French language and customs. Emery de Caen, Champlain's
contemporary, told the Huguenot sailors that " Monseigneur
the Duke de Ventadour (Viceroy) did not wish that they should
sing psalmi in the Great River." When the first steamboat
ascended this river, an old Canadian voyageur exclaimed, in
astonishment and doubt, " Mais croyez-vous que le bon Dieu
permettra tout cela ! "

Another route from Quebec is that by the Grand Trunk
Railway on the south shore. Point Levis, a thriving city
with its stately churches and conventual buildings, crowns
a rocky height. On a lofty plateau in the rear are the great
forts — modelled after those of Cherbourg — the most perfect
in Europe. The falls of the Chaudi^re, nine miles from
Quebec, will well repay a visit — the river makes a plunge of
135 feet over a rocky bed, which breaks the water into a mil-
lion flashing prisms.

THE EASTERN TOWNSHIPS.

The most considerable town on this route is Richmond,
picturesquely situated on the St. Francis, and St. Hyacinth on
the Yamaska, with cathedral, college, convent, and a population
of 4,000. Sherb.'ooke, on the Magog, is the principal place south
of the St. Lawrence, after Levis, having a population of 8,000
and numerous factories. This is the centre of the famous
" Eastern Townships," the most fertile, and best cultivated, and
richest stock-raising portion of Quebec. The romantic legion
around Lake Memphremagog is well named " The Switzerland

208

THE EASTERN TOWNSHIPS.

of Canada." The following paragraphs describe a visit made
from Montreal to this romantic region :

Within four hours' ride from Montreal, via the South-
Eastern Railway, lies one of the most charming and picturesque
parts of Canada, and the most beautiful of Canadian lakes —
Memphremagog. We glide out of the busy Bonaventure Sta-
tion, and leaving the stately city behind us, plunge into the
dark and echoing tunnel of the Victoria Tubular Bridge. What
strikes one is the composite nature of the train, made up, as it
is, of carriages which, after keeping company for a time, diverge
by different routes to Portland, Boston, and New York. From
the south shore of the St. Lawrence, the imposing river front
of our Canadian Liverpool, with its crowded docks, shipping,
and warehouses, and its terraced streets and magnificent moun-
tain background, is seen to great advantage.

When we leave the river we soon see that we are in a very
different country from the garden province of Ontario. The
trees assume a more northern aspect, and are largely aspen
poplars, whose vivid green, shimmering in the sunlight, con-
trasts strongly with the sombre foliage of the spruces. The
country sweeps in a broad slope to the far horizon. Quiet vil-
lages see the thunderous trains rush by, and calmly slumber on.
The diminutive houses cluster around the huge red-roofed, cross-
crowned church, like children around the feet of their mother.
Rustic wayside crosses are sometimes seen, where wayfarers
pause for a moment to whisper a Pater or an Ave, Frequently
appear the populous dove-cots, an indication of seigneurial privi-
lege. On many farms a rude windmill brandishes its stalwart
arms, as if eager for a fray — a feature imported probably from
the wind-swept plains of Normandy. Many of the cottages
gleam with snowy whitewash — roofs ard all — looking in the
distance like a new washed flock of sheep, or like the tents of
an army. As we proceed further the naked rocks protrude in
places through the soil, as though the earth were getting out-
at-elbows and exposing her bony frame. The country is
much more picturesque, however, than anything we have in
the west.

Sixteen miles from Montreal is situated the thriving town of

THE EASTERN TOWNSHIPS.

209

Chambly, with its castollateil and dismantled fort, near which,
as many as 6,000 troops have encamped.

At the thriving
town of St. John's
we cross the broad
Richelieu, known as
the River of the Iro-
quois,— the gateway
of Canada by which
those ferocious
tribes, for two hun-
dred years, invaded
the river seigneuries
and often menaced,
and sometimes mas-
sacred, the hapless
inhabitants of Mon-
treal. The old
" Jesuit Relations "
abound with narra-
tives of thrilling ad-
venture on this his-
toric stream, which
are now well-nigh
forgotten.

After leaving St.
John's we pass the
pretty and prosper-
ous villages of West
and East Farnham,
Cowansville, Sweets-
burg, West Brome,
Sutton, and Aber-
corn. Several of
these nestle in shel-
tering valleys amid
the swelling hills, and in the English parts of the Eastern
Townships as good farms, farmsteads, and stock abound as one
u

^»-"«BiraOTBi»B»i>..-.-r.T;H,yi^;»HWWIIP':1

210

LAKE MEMPHREMAGOG.

would care to see. This is especially true of the magnificent
rolling land east of the Merophremagog, and on the slopes of
the St. Francis River. Entering Vermont State at Richford,
the hills swell into mountains, some of them over 4,000 feet
high. Like ancient Titans sitting on their solitary thrones,
they seem to brood ovor the deep thoughts locked in their
rocky breasts.

Lake Memphremagog, two-thirds of which lies in the
Dominion of Canada, is the charming rival of Lake George,
which it resembles in conformation. Its length is thirty miles,
the breadth about two miles, widening in some portions to six
miles. The bold, rock-bound shores, numerous wooded islands,
the shadowing peaks of lofty mountains, rising, in some cases,
to 3,000 feet in height, with slopes of luxurious forests and
greenest verdure, serve but to heighten tlie charm of this
" Beautiful Water," supplied from the pure, cold streams ot
the surrounding mountains.

The memory of a day spent on this lovely lake is photo-
graphed forever on our mind as one of its most vivid and
beautiful pictures. One takes the steamer at the pretty little
town of Newport, in Vermont. Her commander has, for a life-
time, known every point upon these waters, and can give valu-
able information or amuse you with stories and legends innum-
erable, pertaining to the old-time history of this wild and
secluded region. The zig-zag course of the steamer gives you
a trip of nearly fifty miles' sailing, from Newport to the village
at the northern outlet — Magog — a hamlet with a background
of forest extending to Mount Orford. The sail of nearly a
hundred miles up and down the lake is one of ever-varying
deliffht. The snow-white hotels and villas of the town are
sharply relieved against the verdure of the wooded hills.
PlePvSure yachts float, doubled by reflection, on the glassy sur-
face, and the snowy pennon of a railway engine streams grace-
fully in the air. The eastern shores are fertile and sparsely
populated with a farming community ; the western shore is
njore bold and abrupt, rising, in many places, in frowning
bluffs of several hundred feet elevation.

Fertile farms slope up from the lake to a background of

^¥.:''^h^^-

ITS STRIKING BEAUTY.

211

mountains, rising range beyond range, passing from bright
green to deep purple, and fading away into soft pearl gray.

Now we approach Owl's Head, which looms ever vaster and
grander as we draw near. It lifts its hoary summit nearly
three thousand feet in ths air, and Mount Orford, near the
further end of the lake, is nearly a thousand feet higher. The
former, however, is more accessible, and makes the more strik-
ing impression from the water.

Our steamer moored at the foot of the mountain long enough
for us to study its character. A huge rock rose grandly from
the water, of a cool gray, except where coated with many-
coloured lichens. A mass of dense foliage clothed its mighty
sides; white-skinned birches trailing their tresses in the
waves, shivering aspens, feathery larches, the vivid verdure of
tlie maple, the graceful forms of the elm, the gray-leaved wil-
lows swaying with gloomy flout ; above, " the pine tree, dark
and high, tossed its plumes so wild and free ; " and underneath
grew rankly the lush luxuriance of the grass and sedges and
the dew-bedappled ferns.

Round Island is a cedar-crowned swell of rockbound land,
rising from the lake, about a half-mile from the base of Owl's
Head, which you are now approaching. The boat lands you in
a few minutes at the wharf of a laud-locked and mountain-
shadowed hotel, the Mountain House. The view of the lake
from this point is superb. The ascent of Owl's Head is made
from that hotel. There are curious and prominent way-marks
on the ascent, and the prospect is grand and extensive, extend-
ing, with favourable weather, to Montreal and the great St.
Lawrence River, over the whole extent of the lake and the
cluster of lakes, ponds, and system of rivers, with the ranges,
peaks, and villages around the wide sweep of view. These
hills have all rounded tops, as if glacier-worn by the great ice-
fields which passed over their head in the post-tertiary geo-
logical age.

Steaming northward from this point the great mountains
rear their huge masses into view — Owl's Head, Sugar-Loaf, or
Mount Elephantis, the Hog's Back, and away in the distance.
Jay I'eak. Meanwhile, Long Island with its bold shores, has

Lake
Memphremagoo.

LAKE WILLOUGHBY.

213

been passed, and on its southern line is the famous Balance
Rock, a huge granite mass, balanced upon a point close to the
water's edge, an object of interest to the learned and the
curious. The eastern shores are now abrupt, and residences of
wealthy Canadians crown the heights. Molson, the Montreal
banker, has here his summer residence, and is the proprietor of
an island near the eastern shore. Sir Hugh Allan, the great
.steamship owner, had, at the time of which we write, a charm- '
ing villa on the shore of the lake. A hale-looking, white-
haired old gentleman he looked, as he stood on the wharf ia a
butternut coat, buff vest, and white hat.

Steaming on, and rounding the bold rocky promontory of
Gibraltar Point, one has a wide view, with Mount Orford in
the distance — the highest summit of Lower Canada, 3,300 feet
elevation, distance five miles from the village of Magog. It
may be ascended by carriage roadway to the summit.

A few miles from Newport is Lake Wil lough by. This re-
markable sheet of water lies between two lofty mountain walls,
evidently once united, but torn asunder by some terrible con-
vulsion of nature in remote ages. The surface of the lake is
nearly twelve hundred feet above sea level, and the mountain
walls tovt^er on either side to the height of nearly two thousand
feet 'above the lake. Mount Willough by, the eastern wall, is
nearly two thousand feet in height, and Mount Hor, on the
western side, is of somewhat less elevation. From the summit
of these heights you may look to the south-east upon the
White and Franconia Mountains, westward to the bold peaks
and ranges of the Green Mountains, northward into the
Canadas, and southward along the wide valley between the
great mountain ranges. From Newport to the White Moun-
tains, Lake Winnipesaukee, and Boston is a delightful ride
along the picturesque Passumsic and Merrimac Rivers, whose
ever-varying scenery makes the trip one long to be remembered.

Old travellers, who have seen them both, say that Meraphre-
magog, for beauty of scenery, altitude of surrounding moun-
tains, and picturesque indentation of shore, bears away the
palm from the far-famed Lochs Lomond and Katrine. It has
also, in some of its aspects, been compared to Lake George, which

214

ON THE BORDERS.

it resembles in great length as compared to its breadth, and to
the memory -haunted waters of Lake Geneva. But it lacks the
historic interest, the human sympathy, the spell o£ power that
those scenes possess; —

The light that never was on sea or shore,
The consecration and the poet's dream.

The country hereabouts is so near the borders that sometimes
one is not sure whether he is in the Queen's dominions or not.
One house in Stanstead, used as a store, is right on the line, —
a highly convenient arrangement for evading the customs'
obligation to render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's.
A row of low iron pillars, bearing the names of the boundary
commissioners, mark the division between the two countries.
I stood by one of them with one foot in Canada and the other
in the United States, yet did I not feel any divided allegiance.
I know, however, that I feel a little safer and more comfortable
beneath the broad folds of the old flag under which I was born,
and under which I hope to die. At the pleasant town of
Stanstead is the Methodist College, well equipped and doing
admirable educational work.

FOUNDING OF THE VILLE MARIE. •

On the morning of the 18th of May, 1642, a small flotilla
might have been seen slowly gliding up the rapid current
which flows between St. Helen's Island and the Island of
Montreal. The sun shone brightly on the snowy sails, flashed
from the surface of the rippling river, and lit up the tender
^'reen of the early spring foliage on the shores. The dipping
of the oars kept time to the chanting of a hymn of praise,
which, softened by the distance, floated musically over the
waves.

As the foremost and largest vessel approached, there could
be distinguished on its deck a small but illustrious group of
pioneers of civilization, whose names are forever associated
with the founding of the great city which now occupies the
populous shores, then clothed with the rank luxuriance of the
primeval forest. Conspicuous among these, by his tall figure,

FOUNDING OF VILLE MARIE.

215

close black cassock, wide-brimmed hat, and cross hanging from
his girdle, was Viniont, the Superior of the Jesuit Mission of
Canada. By his side stood a youthful acolyte bearing a silken
banner, floating gently in the morning breeze, on which
gleamed in white and gold, upon a purple ground, the image of
the Virgin, by whose name the new town Ville Marie was to
be consecrated.

On the right of the Jesuit father stood a gallant soldier in
the uniform of the Knights of Malta, wearing a scarlet tunic
on which was embroidered a purple cross. A velvet cap with a
waving plume shaded his broad and handsome brow, and a light
rapier completed his equipment. This was Montmagny, the
military commandant of Quebec. To the left oi the priest
stood a taller and more martial-looking figure, wearing a close-
fitting buff jerkin, on his head a steel morion, and girt to his
waist a broadsword that had seen hard service in the terrible
wars of Flanders. This was the vajiant Maisonneuve, the first
Governor of Montreal. Between those two distinguished lay-
men a studied and dignified courtesy was maintained, yet
marked by a certain stately coldness and hauteur. In fact a
feeling of jealousy toward the new commandant had been
already manifested by Montmagny, who foresaw in the plant-
ing of a new colony the erection of a formidable rival of
Quebec, and a diminution of his own hitherto supreme authority.
He therefore sought to dissuade Maisonneuve from the enter-
prise with which he was commissioned, urging the difficulties
and dangers in the way, especially from the opposition of the
terrible Iroquois.

" I have not come to deliberate, out to act," replied the gal-
lant soldier. " It is my duty and my honour to found a colony
at Montreal ; and though every tree were an Iroquois, I should
make the attempt."

Nor was women's gentle presence wanting to this romantic
group. A somewhat pefife figure in a dark conventual dress
and snowy wimple, which only made more striking the deathly
pallor of her countenance, was she to whom the greatest respect
seemed to be paid. Her large dark eyes lit up her counte-
nance with a strange light, and revealed the enthusiasm burn-

216

FIRST MASS.

ing in her breast, which longed to carry the Gospel even to the
remote and inaccessible wilds of the Hurons. This was the
devout widow, Madame de la Peltrie, a daughter of the haute
nohleaae of Normandy, who, having abandoned wealth and
courtly friends, had come the previous year to Quebec, and
gladly joined the new colony now about to be established. A
lay sister, Mademoiselle Mance by name, a soldier's wife, and a
servant of Madame de la Peltrie, completed the little female
group.

A miscellaneous company of soldiers, sailors, artizans and
labourers, about forty in all, filled the three little Vessels which,
freighted with the fortunes of the infant colony, now approached
the strand. As the keel of the pinnace, which was foremost,
grated on the pebbly beach, Maisonneuve, seizing the conse-
crated banner, lightly leaped ashore, and firmly planting it in
the earth, fell upon his knees in glad thanksgiving. Mont-
magny, Vimont, and the ladies followed, and the whole com-
pany engaging in a devout act of worship, chanted with glad-
some voice the sublime mediaeval hymn :

Vexilla Regis prodeunt ;
Fulget crucis mysterium.

The banners of heaven's King advance ;
Tlie mystery of the cross shines forth.

The shore js soon strewn with stores, bales, boxes, arms and
baggage of every sort. An altar is speedily erected and deco-
rated with fresh and fragrant flowers that studded the grassy
margin of a neighbouring stream. The sacred vessels are ex-
posed. Vimont, arrayed in the rich vestments of his oflfice,
stands before the altar, and, while the congregation in silence
fall upon their knees, celebrates for the first time, amid that
riagnificent amphitheatre of nature, the rites of the Roman

atholic faith.

At the close of the service the priest invoked the blessing
of heaven on the new colony. With a voice tremulous with
emotion, turning to his audience he exclaimed, as with pro-,
phetic prescience ;

" You are a grain of mustard-seed that shall rise and grow till

THEN AND NOW.

217

its branches overshadow the earth. You are few, but your
work is the work of God. His smile is upon you, and your
children shall fill the land."*

No mention is made in the contemporary records of the
Jesuits of the Indian village of Hochelaga, described by Jacques
Cartier as occupying the site of Montreal a hundred years
before. It had, doubtless, been destroyed by Iroquois invasion.
The noble stream which bears to-day on its broad bosom the
shipping of the world was undisturbed but by the splash of the
wild fowl, or the dash of the Indian's light canoe. The moun-
tain which gives to the city its name, shagged with ancient
woods to the very top, looked down on the unwonted scene.
The river front, which now bristles with a forest of masts, was
a solitude. Where is daily heard the shriek of the iron horse,
peacefully grazed the timid red deer of the woods ; where now
spread the broad squares, the busy streets, the stately churches,
colleges, stores and dwellings of a crowded population, rose the
forest primeval where —

" the murmuring pines and the hemlocks

Bearded with moss and with garments green, indistinct in the twilight,

Stand like Druids of old, with voices sad and projihetic,

Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms."

The lengthening shadows crept across the little meadow of
the encampment. The fireflies gleamed in the gathering gloom
of the adjacent forest. It is narrated that the ladies caught
them, and, tying them in glittering festoons, decorated there-
with the altar on which the consecrated Host remained. The
tents were pitched. The evening meal was cooked at the bivouac
fires ; the guards were stationed ; and, clad in silver mail, the
sentinel stars came out to watch over the cradle slumbers of
Ville-Marie de Montreal.

With the early dawn the little colony was astir. There was
hard work to be done before the settlement could be regarded
as at all safe. The ubiquitous and bloodthirsty Iroquois in-
fested the forests and watched the portages, sometimes even

♦Vimont, Relation dea Jeauites, 1642, p. 37. DoUier de Casson, A.D.,
1641-42.

218

THE FIRST FORT.

swooping down on the Algonquin or Huron allies of the French,
under the very guns of Quebec. The first thing that was to be
done, therefore, was to erect a fortification. But every under-
taking must be hallowed by the rites of religion, and so morn-
ing mass was celebrated, while the mayflowers swung their
odorous censers, and the dewdrops flashed for altar lights.
Prayers and breakfast over, the men all fell to work with zeal.
Seizing an axe, and wielding it as dexterously as he had often
wielded his good sword on many a hard-fought field, Maison-
neuve felled the first tree. As it came crashing down, shaking
a shower of dewdrops from its leaves, and waking unwonted
echoes in the immemorial forest, the ladies gaily clapped their
hands, and the bronzed Norman and Breton soldiers and work-
men raised a ringing cheer.

Fast and hard came the blows. One after another the
mighty monarchs of the forest bowed and fell. Some trimmed
the fallen trunks; others cut them into uniform lengths.
Maisonneuve, assisted by Montmagny and Vimont, traced the
outline of a little fort, and, with spade and mattock, with his
own hands took part in the excavation of a trench without the
lines. It revived, in the classic mind of Vimont, the traditions
of the founding of the storied City of the Seven Hills. But
here his prescient vision beheld the founding of a new Rome, a
mother city of the Catholic faith, which should nourish and
bring up children in the wilderness, extending its power over
savage races, and its protection to far-off missions.

In a short time a strong palisade was erected, surrounding a
spot of ground situated in a meadow, between the river and the
present Place d'Armes, where the vast Parish Church lifts its
lofty towers above the city nestling at its feet. The little fort
was daily strengthened, a few cannon mounted, and loop-holes
made for musketry.

The deadly Iroquois, through the grace of the Virgin and St.
Joseph, the colonists believed, had been prevented from dis-
covering the new settlement in its first weakness, and now it
was strong enough to resist any sudden attack. A tabernacle,
or chapel of bark, after the manner of the Huron lodges,
already sheltered the altar. It was decorated with a few

THE FIRST CHRISTMAS.

219

pictures and images of Christ, the Virgin Mother, and the
Saints, brought across the sea. Substantial log-cabins were
also erected for tho Qove *nor and the nuns, and barracks for
the soldiers and labourers.

The 15th of August was a high day at the Ville Marie. It
was the anniversary of the Assumption of the Virgin. High
mass was celebrated with unusual splendour in the bark chapel,
to the astonishment of some Indian visitors who chanced to be
present, and who were publicly instructed in the elements of
Christianity. A religious procession also took place, to the in-
finite delight of the Indians who were permitted to take part
in the ceremony. In the afternoon the colonists kept holiday,
amid the forest glades, where the songs of the many-plumaged
birds and the strangely familiar wild flowers, recalled tender
associations of their native land across the sea. In the even-
ing, writes the ancient chronicler, they climbed the mountain
and beheld the sun set in golden glory over the silver-shining
Ottawa, and the tender purple outline of the far slopes of
Mount Beloeil, till the shadows lengthening across the plain
and covering the little stockaded fort, warned them to return
to its sheltering fold.

The short and busy summer passed happily. The harvest of
their meagre acres were gathered in. The little patch of late-
sown wheat and barley had greened and goldened in the sun-
shine and been carefully reaped. The Indian com had proudly
waved its plumes, put foi'th its silken tassels, and now shivered
like a guilty thing at the faintest breath of wind. The moun-
tain slopes had changed from green to russet, from russet to
crimson, purple, orange and yellow, and had flamed like the
funeral pyre of summer in the golden haze of autumn. The
long-continued rains had swollen the rushing river, which, over-
flowing its banks, threatened to wash away the stockade, and
destroy the ramparts of the little fort. It was Christmas Eve.
The peril of the colonists seemed imminent. They must suffer
greatly, and perhaps be exterminated if left houseless and unde-
fended at the very beginning of winter. They had recourse to
prayer, but it seemed all in vain. At length Maisonneuve,
moved, as he believed, by a Divine inspiration, planted a cross

220

A STRANGE RITE.

in front of the fort, and made a vow that should the rising flood
be staved, he would himself bear on his shoulders a similar
cross up the steep and rugged mountain, and plant it on the
top. But still the waves increase. They fill the fosse. They
rise to the very threshold of the fort. They strike blow on
blow at its foundations. But the heart of Maisonneuve bates
not a jot of faith and hope; and lo! the waves no longer
advance, they lap more feebly at the foot of the fort, thay
slowly retire, baffled and defeated, as the colonists believe, by
the power of prayer.*

Maisonneuve hastes to fulfil his vow. He immediately sets
men to work, some to prepare a road through the forest and up
the most accessible slope of the mountain; others to construct
a cross. It is the sixth of January, with " an eager and a nip-
ping air," but with a bright sun shining on the unsullied snow.
The little garrison is paraded. P^re du Perron leads the waj',
Madame de la Peltrie follows, and is succeeded by the entire
population of the little bourg. Maisonneuve brings up the rear,
bending beneath his heavy cross. The strange procession moves
through the wintry forest, and up the mountain slope, now
embellished with noble villas, some distance to the west of the
reservoir. Refusing all help, the pious commandant walks the
entire distance — a full league — bearing his burden and climbing
with difficulty the steep ascent, and plants the cross upon the
highest summit of the mountain. That cross long stood upon
the mountain's brow, clearly outlined against the sky, a me-
morial of the signal favour and interposition of heaven. It
became an object of devout pilgrimage, and frequently a group
of nearly a score knelt at its foot.

* " On les voyoit rouler de grosses vagues, coup sur coup, remplir les
fossez et monter iusques k la porte de I'habitation, et sembler devoir en
gloutir tout sans resource . . . . Le dit sieur de Maisonneufve ne perd pas
courage, espere voir bientost I'effet de sa priere," etc. Vimont Relation des
Jemites, 1643, p. 52.

FOREST PERILS.

221

EARLY PROGRESS AND TRIALS.

In August, 1G43, the little colony was reinforced by a company
of recruits from France,under the command of Louis d'Ailleboust,
afterwards Governor of Montreal, accompanied by his youthful
wife and her beautiful sister, Philippine Boulonge. Under
d'Ailleboust's experienced direction the fortifications were
greatly strengthened, the wooden palisades being replaced by
solid bastions and ramparts of stone and earth. But continued
immunity from Iroquois attacks was not to be expected. The
mission fortalice amid the forest was at length discovered, and
thenceforth became the object of implacable hostility. The
colonists could no longer hunt or fish at a distance from its
walls, nor even work in the fields under cover of its guns unless
strongly armed and in a compact and numerous body. Some-
times a single Iroquois warrior would lurk, half-starved, for
weeks in the neighbouring thicket for the opportunity to win a
French or Huron scalp. And sometimes a large party would
form an ambuscade, or throw up a hasty entrenchment, from
which they would harass the colonists, who walked in the
shadow of a perpetual dread. Maisonneuve, though brave as
a lion, was no less prudent than brave. Instead, therefore, of
exposing his little garrison, unaccustomed to the wiles and arti-
fices of wood-warfare, to a defeat which would prove ruinous,
he stood strictly on the defensive. The hot Norman and Breton
blood of the soldier-colonists chafed under this, as they thought
it, cowardly policy. Mutinous murmurs, and innuendoes that
sting to the quick the soldier's pride, became rife, and at length
reached the ears of Maisonneuve.

"The gallant chevalier, is he afraid of the redskins ? " sneer-
ingly asks an impetuous Frenchman.

" If he were not, would he let the dogs act as scouts and
sentinels, and keep behind the ramparts himself ? " replies his
comrade, referring to the practice of employing sagacious watch-
dogs, who had a great antipathy towards the Indians, to give
the alarm in case of an incursion of the Iroquois.

One day, toward the end of the winter of 1643-44, the baying
of the hounds gave warning of the presence of the enemy.

222

IROQUOIS ATTACK.

" Sir, the Iroquois are in the woods ; are we never to see
them ? " demanded the impatient garrison, surrounding the
commandant.*

" Yes, you fHiall see them," he promptly replied, " and that,
perhaps, sooner than you wish. See that you make good your
vaunts. Follow where I lead."

At the head of a little band of thirty men, some on snow-
shoes and others floundering through the deep snow, Maison-
neuve sallied forth against the Iroquois. The enemy were
nowhere to be seen. The rash sortie pushed on. Suddenly the
air rang with the shrill war-whoop, and thrice their number of
painted savages sprang up around them, and poured into their
unprotected ranks a storm of arrows and bullets. The Indians,
sheltered behind the trunks of the trees, kept up a rapid and
galling fire. The French made a gallant stand, but with three
of their nUmber slain, others wounded, and two captured, they
were compelled to retreat Maisonneuve was the last to retire.
He bravely stood covering the retreat of his shattered forces,
exposing his person as a target for the Indian arrows and bullets.
In single-handed conflict he slew the chief of the Iroquois. The
savages, like a tiger disappointed in his spring upon his prey,
sullenly drew off into the forest and wreaked their rage upon
their two hapless prisoners, whom they tortured with unspeak-
able cruelty, and then burned alive.*!* This sharp action took
place a little east of thf^ present Place d'Armes, whose name b
an appropriate commemoration of the gallantry of the first
garrison of Montreal. No further taunts, as we ctji well
believe, were uttered against the tried valour of the Sieur de
Maisonneuve.

It is not within the scope of the present sketch to describe
the progress of Ville Marie, nor to trace its fortunes during the
eventful years of its early history. Not a year, and scarce a
month passed in which the ferocious hunters of men did not

*" Monsieur, les ennemis sont dans le bois; no les irons-nous jamais
voir ? " etc. De Casson, 1642-43.

f'Deux ennemis prisoniers furent bruslez tons vifs pendant quatre
iours avec des cruautez espouvantables." Yimont, Belatioru, 1644, 42.

HAIR-BREADTH 'SCAPES.

223

swoop down upon the little bourg.* In the disastrous yeai* 1601,
the colony lost, in less than a month, over a hundred men, two-
thirds of whom were Frenchmen and the rest Algonquins, by
the attacks of the Iroquois. The whole country was completely
devoured by them.f Like foul harpies or beasts of prey, they
pounced upon their victims, and carried off both men and women
to unspeakable tortures. One of these fierce chiefs, a savage
Nero, so named for his cruelty and crimes, had caused the immo-
lation of eighty men to the manes of his brother slain in war,
and had killed sixty others with his own hand.

In September of the same year, 1661, P6re le Maistre accom-
panied eight men, who went out to reap the grain near the fort.
Retiring a little, in order more peaceably to recite his office, he
was suddenly shot down by concealed Iroquois A swift rush
and a struggle, and his companions were fugitives or slain. His
enemies cut off his head, and one of them assuming his cassock,
flaunted his precious spoil in the very face of the garrison.^

Nevertheless, notwithstanding all their trials, the hearts of the
colonists were sustained by a lofty enthusiasm. Nor were they
without signal deliverances, when, as they believed, angelic
bucklers turned aside the weapons of their foes and blunted
the death-dealing arrow. Thus, on one occasion — it was in the
year 1653 — twenty-six Frenchmen were attacked by two hun-
dred Iroquois. But, amid a perfect shower of .bullets, not one
of the French was harmed, while they were enabled utterly to
rout their foe, God wishing to show, the chronicler devoutly
adds, that whom He guards is guarded well.§

The later history of Montreal is better known. Strong walls
and entrenchments were constructed, which not only bade defi-

^"11 ne a'est passe aucun raois do I'annee que ces chasseurs ne nous
ayent visites a la sourdine tachans de nous surprendre." Mercier, Belation,
1653-4.

t'^Oette Isle s'est tousiours vue gourmandee de ces lutins . . . comme
des harpies importune ou comme des oiseaux de proyc," etc. Le Jeune,
Belation, 1661, 3.

X" Luy couperent la teste, et oterent la soutane, marchant pompeuse-
ment convert de cette pr^cieuse d^pouille." Le June, Belation, 1661, 3.

§" Ce que Dieu garde est bien gard^." Mercier, Relation 1653, 3.

221

OLD LANDMARKS.

ance to savage but to civilized foes. The remains of these may
still be seen in the walls of the old artillery barracks on the
river front, and their northern limit gave its name to the present
Fortification Lane. The arx, or citadel of this semi-feudfil
fortress of New France, was on the elevated ground where
Notre Dame becomes St. Mary Street, and in the low-roofed,
stone-walled old Government House near by we have a relic of

Bon Skcouks Chukch by Moonuoht.

the ancien regime, the scene of many a splendid display of
princely hospitality.

The old Bon Secours Church, with its steep roof, its graceful
spire, and the hucksters' stalls clustering around it, like mendi-
cants about the feet of a friar, carries us back to one of the
most picturesque periods of the city's history. In the destiuc-
tion of the Recollet Church, another ancient landmark has dis-
appeared, and only in the pages of history lives the memory of

TIME'S CHANGES.

225

the romantic fonntling and early growth of Ville Marie, and of
the heroic men and women whose names are interwoven forever
ike threads of gold in the fabric of its story.

THE MONTREAL OF TO-DAY.

It is always a pleasure to visit the Canadian Liverpool — the
commercial metropolis of the Dominion. Its massive majesty
of architecture, its quaint, huge-gr.bled, old stone houses, its

Place u Armes.

picturesque Catholic churches of the ancien regime, the constant
ringing of the many bells, the resonant French language heard
on every side, and its foreign-seeming population, nmke it more
like Rouen or Paris than like a New World city. Yet " the
deadly march of improvement "' is removing the ancient land-
marks. Tha huxters' stalls that clung to the walla of the old
Church of Notre Dame de Bon Secours, are — mores the pity
— torn away. But the queer old church is still intact, with the
pious legend above the door —

THE MONTREAL OF TO-DAY. 227

SI I'ainour de Marie
, En ton coeur est gvav^,

En passant ne troublie
De lui dire "n Ave.

The fine group of buildings near the Place d*Armes would do
credit to any city on the continent. It is said that no city in
the world, except Liverpool and St. Petersburg, can boast such
noble docks as those of Montreal. One of the most delightfully
quaint old bits of the city is Jacques Cartier Square, with
Nelson's Monument, shown in part in one of our cuts, and the
old French houses around it. The stone embankment and the
n. . ' rlyke along the river front are noble pieces of engineering
ii-.i .v-nstruction.

We know no more lovely drive in Canada than that around
the Mountain Park in Montreal, and no grander view than that
obtained from its southern terrace. At our feet lies the noble
city, with its busy streets, its many churches, its pleasant villas
and gardens ; in the distance the noble St. Lawrence, pouring
to the sea the waters of half a continent. Like a gigantic
centipede creeping across the flood, is seen the many-footed
Victoria Bridge, and afar off on the purple horizon the leafy
mound of Mt. Beloeil and the blue hills of the Eastern Town-
ships. No one familiar with the earlier aspect of this fair city
can help cor-rasUng its present with its past.

"The M<^- •»;rea,! of the present day," says Mr. Sandham, "is far
different ' ^ . i :^ of fifty or even twenty years ago. The spirit
of improvei^.e'Vi '.u. been in most active and efficient operation.
A few years ajc 5fc. Paul, Notre Dame, and other business
streets, were narrow thoroughfares, and were ocoup'ed by build
ings which were plain in the extreme, the iron doois and shut-
ters, which were almost universal, giving the city a heavy,
prison-like appearance ; but these buildings were erected to
meet dangers not dreaded in the present day. The old land-
marks which still remain, point to a time when the inhabitants
had to fucvide against the assaults of enemies or the torch of
the ince:«'. ry ; or, still more distant, co the early wars between
the Indian tribes and the first settlers. These ancient buildings
are nearly all destroyed, and their site is now occupied by

228

FIRST STEAMBOAT.

palatial stores and dwellings, in almost every style of architec-
ture. A quarter of a century of active development has passed,
and to-day Montreal stands second to no city upon the continent
for the solidity and splendour of buildings erected for commer-
cial and other purposes, and in the extent of accommodation
at the immese wharves which line the river front, and which
appear to be built to last for ages.

"It derives much of its advantage from its position at the head
of ocean navigation, and from iM facilities for commerce. Up
to 1809 the only mode of conv \ between Montreal and

Quebec was by means of stages or jaux, but the time had
come when superior accommodation was to be provided. John
Molson, Esq., an enterprising and spirited merchant of Montreal,
now fitted out the first steamer that ever ploughed the waters
of the St. Lawrence. On the 3rd November of this year, the little
craft got up steam, shot out into the current, and, after a voyage
of thirty-six hours, arrived safely at Quebec, where the whole
city crowded to have a look at the nautical phenomenon. It is
a fact worthy of record tha^. the second steamer built on this
continent was launched at Montreal. Fulton's little steamer
first navigated the Hudson; then Molson 's 'Accommodation'
cleaved the magnificent waters of the St. Lawrence.

'The remains of gigantic public works in connection with
the cities of the East are the standing theme of wonder with
travellers and historians. Great moles, breakwaters, aqueducts,
canals, pyramids and immense edifices, strikingly evince the
enterprise, skill and wealth of those people, whose very names
are lost in the obscurity of ages. Modern architecture and
enginfeering are much more superficial. How much, for instance,
of modern London, New York or Chicago would survive twenty
or thirty centuries of desolation ? The wooden wharves of the
latter, which contrast so strangely with the immense extent of
the commerce carried on at them, would not survive a hundred
years of neglect. It is, however, worthy of remark that
Montreal is rather following the ancient than the modern usage
in respect to solidity and extent of her public works. The
Victoria Bridge is the wonder of the world ; the extensive
wharves are not equalled on this continent, and by but few

ADVANTAGE OF POSITION.

229

cities in Europe, and nowhere can iSner or more solid public
buildings be found.
" In its situation, at the confluence of the two great rivers.

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the St. Lawrence and Ottawa ; opposite the great natural high-
way of the Hudson and Champlain valley ; at the point where
the St. Lawrence ceases to be navigable for ocean .ships, and
where that vast river, for the last time in its course to the sea,

280

PLACE D'ARMES.

affords a gigantic water power ; at the meeting point of the two
races that divide Canada, and in the centre of a ■ fertile plain
nearly as large as all England, — in these we recognize a guar-
antee for the future greatness of Montreal, not based on the
frail tenure of human legislation, but in the unchanging decrees
of the Eternal, as stamped on the world He has made.

" Were Canada to be again a wilderness, and were a second
Cartier to explore it, he might wander over all the great regions
of Canada and the West, and returning to our Mountain ridge,
call it again Mount Boyal, and say that to this point the wealth
and trade of Canada must turn."

We will now briefly note a few of the monuments and public
buildings of the city. Conspicuous among these is the Nelson
monument. It stands on a pedestal about ten feet high. From
the top of this a circular shaft or column rises fifty feet in
height and five in diameter. On the top of the pillar is a
square tablet, the whole surmounted with a statue of Nelson
eight feet in height. He is dressed in full uniform, and decor-
ated with the insignia of the various orders of nobility con-
ferred upon him. In front of the monument, and pointing to-
wards the river, are two pieces of F issian ordnance captured
during the war with that country. Our engraving shows the
lower part of this picturesque monument on a market day.

Mr. Sandham thus describes the old Parish Church of Notre
Dame : " Before us is the Place d'Armes, or French Square, as
it is more familiarly designated. In early days this was a parade
ground, on which, doubtless, the gallants and dames of 1700
oft-times assembled to witness the military displays made by
the French troops under De Ramezay, Frontenac or Vaudreuil.
This square has also, in still earlier days, witnessed the hand-
to-hand fight between the savage Indian and the French settler,
while from the belfry of the old Parish Church rang forth the
tocsin of alarm to call the settlers from the outskirts of Ville
Marie to the help of their companions. The old church we here
refer to stood in part of this square. Its foundations were laid
in 1671. The church was built of rough stone, pointed with
mortar, and had a high, pitched roof, covered with tin. It was
a spacious building and contained five altars. At the grand

STREET ARCHITECTURE.

231

altar was an immense wooden image of our Saviour on the
Cross. This cross may now be seen on the front of one of the
galleries, near the grand altar of the new church. The church
was dedicated to the Virgin Mary."

Its successor, the present parish church, is the largest in
America, holding some ten thousand persons. The two lofty
towers rise to the height of over two hundred feet.

The street architecture of Montreal is scarcely surpassed by
that of any city on the continent. The view down St. James

St. James Street Methodist Church.

Street from the Place d'Armes is one that it would be hard to
equal. The new Post Office, the new City Hall, the new banks,
and the building of the Young Men's Christian Association, are
structures that would be a credit to any city in Christendom.
Christ Church Cathedral is one of the finest specimens of
ecclesiastical Gothic on the continent, and the new Methodist
Church, shown on this page, is considered the finest church
belonging to that denomination in the world.

Montreal boasts the possession of what is, we believe, the
largest bridge in the world. In the year 1860, amid the utmost
pomp and pageantry, in the name of his august mother, the

■m

VICTORIA BRIDGE.

233

Prince of Wales drove the last rivet of the magnificent struc-
ture that bears her name. Bestriding the rapid current of the
St. Lawrence, here nearly two miles wide, on four and twenty
massive piers — the centre span being three hundred and thirty
feet wide and sixty feet above high water mark — it is one of
the grandest achievements of engineering skill in the world.
It cost six and a half millions of dollars, and was designed and
brought to completion by a distinguished engineer, Alex. M.
Ross, and the world-renowned bridge builder, Robert Stephen-
son.

When the bridge was completed, the solidity of the work was
tested by placing a train of platform cars, 520 feet in length,
extending over two tubes, and loaded, almost to the breaking
limit of the cars, with large blocks of stone. To move this
enormous load three immense engines were required ; yet be-
neath it all, when the train covered the first tube the deflection
in the centre amounted to but seven-eighths of an inch, proving
conclusively that the work had been erected in a most satisfac-
tory and substantial manner.

The most striking natural phenomenon in the neighbourhood
of Montreal is the Lachine Rapids, where the mighty St. Law-
rence precipitates itself down a rocky steep. They are consid-
ered the most dangerous on the whole river. The surging
waters present all the angry appearance of the ocean in a storm;
the boat strains and labours ; but unlike the ordinary pitching
and tossing at sea, this going down hill by water produces a
novel sensation, and is, in fact, a service of some danger, the
imminence of which is enhanced to the imagination by the roar
of the boiling current. Great nerve and force and precision
are here required in piloting, so as to keep the vessel's head
straight with the course of the rapid ; a pilot, skilful, experi-
enced, and specially chosen for the purpose, takes charge of the
wheel, extra hands stand by to assist, while others go aft to the
tiller, to be ready to steer the vessel by its means should the
wheel tackle by any accident give way ; the captain takes his
place by the wheel-house, ready with his bell to communicate
with the engineer ; the vessel plunges into the broken and
raging waters, she heaves and falls, rolls from side to side, and

Montreal Ice Palace,

LACHhXE KAPWS,

235

labours as if she were in a heavy sea, the engine is eased, and
the steamer is carried forward with fearful rapidity. Some-
times she appears to be rushing headlong on to some frightful
rock that shows its black head above the white foam of the
breakers ; in the next instant she has shot by it and is making
a contrary course, and so she threads her way through the
crooked channel these mad waters are rushing down. A few
moments suffice for this, and smooth green waters are reached
again, and, after shooting beneath the Victoria Bridge, reaches
the city of Montreal.

WINTER SPORXa

5,3.i:!i:

Inside the Ice Palace.

The Montreal Ice Palace was the first ever tried in the New
World. The building was made of blocks of ice, forty-two by
twenty-four inches, each block weighing five hundred pounds,
and the whole structure containing forty thousand cubic feet of
ice. Its dimensions were about ninety by ninety feet, with

236

WINTER SPORTS,

Obstacle Rao£ on ths Ios.

MONTREAL ICE PALACE.

237

rectangular towers at each corner, and a central square tower
one hundred feet high. The blocks were " cemented " together
by snow for mortar, and then water was pumped on from a hoso,
and the whole palace made into one solid piece, so that you
couldn't separate one block from another without sawing them
apart. *' The Ice Palace," says the writer of this description,
" was the most beautiful sight I ever saw in sunlight or moon-
light. By the electric light it reminded one of what Charles the
Fifth said of Antwerp Cathedral, that it was worthy of being
placed under a glass shade. I went on top of the mountain,
and looked down at the thousands of lights throughout the
city, and at this glowing structure in the middle. It was like
fairy-land."

Toboganing is the nearest thing to flying one can find. One
couldn't live long if he kept going at such a speed. The toboc;an
's made of two pieces of thin bass wood, about six feet ioiig

id two feet wide, bent up in front like the dashboard of a
.^cigh. It has cross pieces of wood for strength, and long,
round sticks at each si<le, and is all clasped together by cat-gut.
The Indians make them, and use them to carry the game
they shoot over the snow through the woods, and Canadians
turn them into use for pastime in sliding down hills. The
tobogan is so light that it doesn't sink in soft snow like a
cutter, and is so smooth on the bottom that it goes down hill
like a shot, especially when the hill is slippery.

" My first experience of toboganing," continues this writer,
" was on the back part of Mount Royal. The toboganing slide
here is partly an artificial one. It is a big structure of logs and
planks made on an inclined plane, up one side of which there
are steps, and down the side beside it a smooth, ice-covered
slide. There is room on top like a little platform upon which
you settle yourself on your tobogan. To tell the truth, there's
no danger on proper hills. A man sits behind and steers with
his foot.

" The sensation is exciting. You lose your breath as the snow
dashes up into your face, and you have all the feeling of going
on the road to a regular smashup, but before the smash comes,
your sleigh eases off as gently as it started, and you get up and

{

238

SNOW-SHOE CLUB.

|i '

Montkkaij Snow-Shok Club.

TOBOGANING.

23^

want to do it again. If you stand to one side of the slide, and
see a tobogan whiz past you like a shot, and see the frightened
faces of the strangers who are having their first try, you feel as

TOBOQANINO ON MoUNT llOYAL.

if you were looking at a group who were going to destruction ,
but by-and-bye you see them coming up hill again laughing at
their fears.
" What a city Montreal is for sleighing ! No sloppy roads one

»"»P^«««PW*Li (11 iVWiiLL 'I

240

SLEIGHING,

day and hard ones the next. No wheels to-day and runners
to-morrow. A constant jingle of bells, and quick trot of horses,
and all kinds of sleighs, rough and handsome, little and big.
On the civic half -holiday, there were over two thousand sleighs
in the procession in which the hackmen joined. After the
drive, we stopped at McGill College gate and saw the snow-
shoers start to run to the top of the mountain and back, a dis-
tance of about three miles cross country. They think nothing

Games ok the River.

of running to the Back River, eight miles ; and they go to
Lachine and back, or some other place, every Saturday, about
twenty miles, just for the sport of the thing. It was great fun
to see some of the most eager fellows going headlong into the
deep snow when they tried to pass those ahead. Snowshoes
are of Indian origin, made of light ash, bent to an oval, and the
ends fastened together with cat-gut. The interior is then crossed
with two pieces of flat wood to strengthen the frame, and the
whole is woven with cat-gut, like a lawn tennis bat. An open-
ing is left for the motion of the toes in raising the heel in

SA'O \V-SHOEh\G.

241

stepping out. The netting sustains tlie weight of the body, and
the shoe sinks only an inch or two, and when one foot is bear-
ing the weight the other is lifted up, and over, and onwards.
The shoes are fastened to the moccasined feet bjr thongs of
deer-skin. In the evening of the inauguration of the Ice
Palace, everybody came to Dominion Square, where there was
every sort of light but sunlight. The Ice Palace looked like
glass ; and I never saw anything so beautiful as when they
burned blue, green, crimson and purple fires inside. By-and-bye
the procession of fifteen hundred men appeared in club uniforms,
each carrying a lighted torch in one hand, and discharging
Roman candles from the other. After going around the Palace,
the procession headed for the mountain, went up the old snow-
shoe track, and returned down the zigzag road, singing as they
swung along,

•' 'Tramp 1 tramp 1 on snow-shoes tramping,
All the day we marching go,
Till at night by fires encamping
We find couches mid the snow 1 "

"From the city below the sight was picturesque. The long,
serpentine trail was seen moving in and out, and twisti; like
a huge firesnake, while the Roman candles shot their bails of
fire into the air. It was a grand and wild sight to see them
coming back. A snow-storm had set in, and the flickering
lights, the costumes, the sturdy, steady tramp of the fellows
made one think of a midnight invasion by an army."

Niagara Falls.

:-'. ■fl:,.,/..lr'-'.TT7'T^"v7'T"'Bff

ONTARIO— ITS EXTENT AND RESOURCES. 243

ONTARIO.

WE are now about to enter the Province of Ontario, and
a brief reswmA as to its extent and characteristics will
not be out of place.

Ontario is the most populous and wealthy province of the
Dominion of Canada, and its growth has been exceedingly
rapid. It has an area of 197,000 square miles, including the
recent extension of its boundaries. But, as has been well said,
" Comparisons bring out colours. Few realize from the mere
quotations of figures the enormous extent of our great country.
For instance, Ontario is larger than Spain, nearly as large as
France, nearly as large as the great German Empire, as large
as Sweden, Denmark and Belgium, and larger than Italy,
Switzerland, Denmark, Belgium and Portugal."

The Province of Ontario reaches the most southern point of
the Dominion, namely, to the latitude of Rome in Italy; and
being in a large measure surrounded by the great lakes of the
continent of North America, its climate is much modified by
their influence. The principal source of its w«ialth is agricul-
ture, and it may be said to take the lead in the farming oper-
ations of the Dominion.

OTTAWA.

Ottawa, the capital of the Dominion, may be reached either
by rail by the Canada Pacific or by sailing up the Ottawa. We
shall describe the former route first. Taking the train at the
C. P. R. station, on the site of the quaint old French barracks,
we sweep around the many-towered city, and cross the " Back
River" at the historic Sault au Recollet We traverse the
Isle Jesus with its charming villages of St. Martin, Ste. Rose de
Lima and St. Vincent de Paul. Indeed, the whole route is

244

07-7-^ JVA.

studded with picturesque hamlets bearing such names as L'Ange
Gardien, Ste. Thdr^se, Ste. 8cholastique, St. Eustache, and many
another holy saint; with their broad-eaved, curved-roofed
houses, and large stone churches, with their cross-crowned
twin towers or spires gleaming brightly in the sun. For the
greater part of the way, on the left, stretch long shining
reaches of the river, studded with tree-clad islands. To the
right rise the outlines of the Laurentides, clothed with verdure

Pabliambnt Buildings, Ottawa, from the River.

to the very summits. At length comes into view, on a bold
bluff above the river, the most picturesque architectural group
on this continent, and, sweeping over a long railway bridge
above the Chaudi^re Falls, we glide into the city of Ottawa.

It fosters one's feelings of patriotic pride to visit the capital
of the Dominion. The Parliament and Departmental buildings
/form one of the most imposing architectural groups in the
world, and their site is one of unsurpassed magnificence,
'ground a lofty cliff, tree-clad from base to summit, sweeps the
Wiajestic Ottawa ; to the left resounds the everlasting thunder of

THE PARLIAMENT ■ B UILDINGS.

245

the Chaudi^re, and in the distance rise the purple slopes of the
Laurentians. The broken outline of the many-towered build-
ings against the sunset sky is a picture never to be forgotten.
The two finest features of the group, we think, are the poly-
gonal shaped library, with its flying buttresses, its steep conical
roof, its quaint carvings and tracery ; and the great western
tower rising, Antseus-like, from the earth, pausing a moment,
and then, as if with a mighty effort, soaring into the sky. The
view of this tower from the " Lover's Walk " beneath the cliff
resembles some of Dora's most romantic creations.

The Parliament buildings and Departmental offices are the
finest specimen of Gothic architecture on the continent. They
illustrate the remarkable flexibility and adaptation to modern
purposes of that grand style. Like Cleopatra's beauty, " Age -^
cannot wither nor custom stale its infinite variety."

The details of the buildings will repay careful study. Each
capital, finial, crocket, corbel and gargoyle is different from
every other. Grotesque faces grin at one from the cornices,
and strange, twi-formed creatures crouch as in act to spring, or
struggle beneath the weight they bear. Canadian plants and
flowers and chaplets of maple, oaks and ferns form the capitals
of the columns, amid which disport squirrels, marmots and
birds.

The C'^mmons chamber seems crowded and rather sombre,
much more so than the spacious and splendid Congress chamber
at Washington. More copious reports, I was informed, were "]
sent from this chamber to the public press than were despatched /
by telegraph from any Legislature in the world.

The Senate chamber has an air of greater luxury and dignity
than that or the Commons, as is meet for that august body.
The library, both externally and internally, is a perfect gem of
architecture; but still more attractive to me are its valuable
contents. It is admirably arranged for reference, and thxough
the courtesy of the polite attendants, any book on the shelves
is promptly placed at one's disposal. It is especially rich in rare
and costly works on art and archaeology, many of which were
presented by the late Emperor of the French, and bear his
monogram. ^ Among the treasures of the library are Ferret's

246

PICTURESQUE POSITION.

Catacombs, in seven huge volumes; the Musde du Louvre, in
eighty-one folios ; the Mus^e Fran9ais, etc. The documentary
materials for the history of Canada are also very rich.

The bird's-eye view shows the arrangement of buildings on
the ground. The view is taken from the side of the river
opposite the city. To the extreme right are the Falls of the
Chaudifere and the Suspension Bridge, with the vast acreage of

City of Ottawa.

lumber piles and mills from which float down the rafts shown
in the river. Midway across the picture is the bold bluff
on which the Parliament buildings stand. Running up to the
left of this is the Rideau Canal, with its many locks, rising like
steps in a gigantic stair. Across the canal is the beautiful park,
commanding full views of the river, of the opposite hill, and
of the far-stretching Laurentian range.

TIMBER SLIDES.

247

The rapids commence a few miles above the city, but here, ,'
says Mr. S. E. Dawson, the channel contracts and the broad
and rapid river, obstructed and tormented by islands and rocks,
falls thirty feet over a steep limestone cliff into a basin well
named the Chaudifere, or caldron ; for it is a cavity in the bed
of the river in which the water foams and seethes. Such a
gigantic water-power is of course utilized, and here some of
the largest lumber manufactures in the Dominion are situated.

Parliament Buildings.

Close at hand are the timber slides, by which the lumber from
the upper river passes down without damage into the navigable
water below. To go down these slides upon a crib of timber is
a unique experience a visitor should endeavour to make ; for,
while it is unattended with danger, the novelty and excitement
are most absorbing. Close to the city also are the Rideau Falls,
which, though not approaching the Chaudifere in importance,
are worth visiting. They fall perpendicularly down like a
great curtain, whence the name.

\ %

1 !

248

THE LOWER OTTAWA.

The grounds at Rideau Hall are spacious and beautifully laid
out, and here a succession of Governors-General have dispensed
a graceful hospitality.

DOWN THE OTTAWA.

The sail down the Ottawa to Montreal is one of much interest.

For over two hundred years this noble river has been the chief

route for fur-traders, voyageurs and trappers to the north-west.

Two hundred and sixty years ago Champlain threaded its

Departmental Buildinos— East Block.

mazes to their source, and reached by way of Lake Nipissing
and the French River, the " Mer Douce," or fresh-water sea of
Huron.

Descending the river from the capital the tourist will see,
says Mr. W. E. Dawson, on the north side the mouth of the
Gatineau, a large and important lumbering stream, which has
been surveyed for three hundred miles from its junction.
Eighteen miles further, the Lievre river, after a course of two
hundred and eighty miles, enters the Ottawa, Four miles
from its mouth is the village of Buckingham. The water-

THE THEKMOPYL^ OF CANADA.

249

power of the Lifevre is enormous, for the river is very deep and
has a fall at Buckingham of nearly seventy feet. Here are
also mines of plumbago, of phosphates and of mica.

Passing the pretty village of L'Orignal, we take the train
from Grenville to Carillon, to avoid the rapids of the " Chute-
a-Blondeau."

At Carillon, in the year IGGO, a band of seventeen young and
gallant French Canadians from Montreal, by an act of heroism

'■A'fl.N.CJ

Departmental Bcildings— West Block.

as sublime as any recorded on the page of history, sacrificed
their lives for the defence of their country. With a valour
worthy of Leonidas, they withstood the assault of an invading
horde of seven hundred infuriate Iroquois. For eight long days
and nights, worn with hunger, thirst and want of sleep, they
fought, and prayed, and watched by turns. Every Frenchman
was slain, but the colony was saved. The pass of Carillon was
the Thermopylae of Canada. To-day the bright waters ripple
and shimmer in the sun, and the peaceful wheat fields wave
upon the scene of this gallant, yet almost forgotten, exploit.

250

OKA.

The storj' is well told in George Murray's ballad :

" Eight days of varied horror passed ; what boots it now to tell
Huw the palo tenants of the fort heroically fell ?
Hunger, and thirst, and sleeplessness, Death's ghastly aids, at length,
Marred and defaced their comely forms, and quelled their giant strength.
The end draws nigli — they yearn to die — one glorious rally more,
For the dear sake of Ville-Marie and all will soon be o'er ;
Sure of the martyr's golden Crown, they shrink not from the Cross,
Life yielded for the land they love, they scorn to reckon loss."

We now enter the Lake of Two Mountains, one of those

Post Office, Oitawa.

beautiful expanses which vary the scenery of Canadian rivers.
At the mouth of the Riviere a la Graisse is the pretty town
Rigaud, with its tinned roofs and large French college.

The level landscape and elm-reflecting lake at St. Placide
make the name of the village a peculiarly appropriate designa-
tion. Passing Como, a pleasant summer resort, we reach Oka,
an Indian settlement on a seigniory granted by Louis XIV. to
the Sulpicians two hundred years ago. The pretty village, at
the time of our visit, had a deserted look, most of the Indians
being for the time driven from their homes by the persecutions

STE. ANNES.

251

of the Seminary ; and the chapel and convent, w nich occupied
a point jutting into the river, being a mass of ruins. One of
the Sulpician priests, who embarked on the steamer at Oka,
with whom I entered into conversation, was very anxious to
make a favourable impression as to the policy of the Seminary.
He divided his time between reading his breviary and de-
nouncing, in broken English, the Methodists, who, he said, were
the cause of all the trouble.

Ste. Anne's is a pretty picturesque village, with a large cross-
crowned ^l.arch, near the junction of the Ottawa with the St.
Lawrence. Here, dimpling in the bright sunlight, are the rapids
celebrated in Moore's " Canadian Boat Song : "

" Faintly as tollg the evening chime,
Our voices keep tune, and our oars keep timo.
Soon OS the woods on shore look dim
We'll sing at St. Anne's our parting hymn.

Bow, brothers, row ; the stream runs fast,
The Eapids are near, and the daylight's puat.

•• Uttawa's tide ! this trembling moon
Shall see us float o'er thy surges soon.
Snint of this green isle ! hear our prayers ;
O, grant us cool heavens and favouring airs !
Blow, breezes, blow ; the stream runs fast,
The Bapids are near, and the daylight's past."

As the two mighty rivers, which drain half a continent, join
their streams, their waters run for miles side by side without
mingling — the one of a tawny yellow tinge, the other of a deep
cerulean blue.

Rising behind the village are the two mountains from which
the lake derives its name. The one with the cross is named
Mount Calvary. Chapels, seven in number, are built at
intervals up the ascent for the seven stations of the Cross.
This pilgrimage is often made by the faithful, and much bodily
as well as spiritual good is stated to have resulted.

\n\

252

KINGSTON PENITENTIARY.

KINGSTON AND THE UPPER ST. LAWRENCE.

The beauty of the upper St. Lawrence is best seen by a aail
down that majestic stream. We shall therefore describe the
trip by steamboat from Kingston down. The ancient capital of
Upper Canada, or the " Limestone City," as it is called, from
the prevailing material of its peculiarly substantial architec-
ture, presents many features of interest. One of these is
the Tete du Pont Barracks on the sitt of the Frontenac's old
fort, built in 1673. Fort Henry is a very elaborate fortress
with deep stone-lined ditches, ramparts, casemates, and store
and barrack accommodation for a thousand men. I was sur-
prised at the extent and strength of its works and of the out-
lying martello towers and earthworks.

The other chief attraction of the city, from the tourist point
of view, is the Penitentiary. Through the courtesy of the
accomplished warden. Dr. Lavell, I was permitted to make a
thorough inspection of the workshops, hospital, lunatic asylum
and prisons — including the underground dungeons for the pun-
ishment of refractory prisoners. I was shut up for a while in
one of these cells. It was the darkest experience I had since I
was locked up in a dungeon of the Doges' prison at Venice.
The darkness, like that of Egypt, might be felt. The work-
shops, for Comfort and cleanliness, we think cannot be surpassed
in the world. Few free workmen labour under such favourable
conditions. It was sad to see so many young men and young
women spending the prime of thei.' years behind prison bars.
The discipline of the prison is reformatory as well as punitive.
It is possible for a convict to considerably abridge the period
of his sentence by good behaviour. Moral influences are largely
employed. Two chaplains devote their services to the prisoners.
A good library h supplied. Habits of industry are cquired.
Many learn a good trade and are better cared for in body and
mind than they ever were before.

The public buildings of Kingston are substantial and hand-
some. The p'ost prominent among these is Queen's University
— a college of the Presbyterian Church. Under the- presidency of
Dr. Grant, one of the most accomplished of Canadian scholars
and writers, it has attained a well merited celebrity.

FOUNDING OF KINGSTON.

253

The founding of Kingston, like that of Montreal, is full of
romantic interest. One of the first acts of Frontenac, on assum-
ing the Vice-Royalty of New France in 1672, was the planting
of a fort and trading-post at the foot of Lake Ontario, both
lonjr known bv his name, in order to check the interference of
the English from Albany and New York with the fur trade of
the Indian allies of the French, and to prevent the inroads of
the Iroquois in the event of war. The merchants of Montreal,
Three Rivers, nnd Quebec were exceedingly jealous of the

Military Colleqe, Kingston.

establishment of the fort, from a well-grounded apprehension
that it would seriously affect their profits, by intercepting no
small share of the lucrative fur-trade. Frontenac, however, by
an imperious exercise of the royal authority, commanded the
inhabitants of these settlements to furnish, at their own cost, a
number of armed men and canoes for that very purpose. In
the month of June, he collected, at Montreal, a force of four
hundred men, including mission Indians, with a hundred and
twenty canoes, and two large flat-boats. These last he caused
to be painted with glaring devices of red and blue, in order to
dazzle the Iroquois by a display of unaccustomed magnificence.

wmumaammii

"iTiimr

254

FOUNDING OF KINGSTON.

Frontenac infused his own indomitable energy into his little
army. In two weeks they had overcome, with incredible toil,
the difficulties of the Rapids and, threading the lovely mazes
of the Thousand Islands, reached the waters of Lake Ontario.
Frontenac had previously despatched La Salle, who had re-
turned from his first expedition to the West, and in whom he
discerned a spirit kindred to his own, to summon deputies from
the Iroquois towns to meet him at Cataraqui, the destined site
of the new fort. A large number of Iroquois were already
encamped when Frontenac approached. Forming his little
flotilla in battle array, he advanced with much military
pomp, and landed near the site of the present city of Kingston.*
Bivouac fires were soon lighted, guards set, and the "qui vive "
of the French sentry was heard on the shores of Lake Ontario.

The next morning, with roll of drums and much presenting
of drms, the Iroquois deputies were conducted, between glit-
tering files of soldiers, to the presence of the Governor and his
staft, who were arrayed in their most brilliant uniforms. The
stately manners and masterful address of Frontenac, — a born
ruler of men, by turns haughty and condescending, imperious
and winning, — impressed the savages with respect, confidence,
and good-will no less than did the splendour of his appearance
and retinue.

"Children!" he said, — not "brothers," as the French had
previously called them, — " I am glad to see you. You did well
to obey the command of your Father. Take courage ; you
shall hear His word, which is full of peace and tenderness."

He then magnified the power of the French, and, pointing
to the cannon of his brilliantly painted flat-boats, admonished
them of the consequences of disobeying his commands. He set
forth the advantages of his friendship, and of the establishment
of the new trading-post, and urged the claims of the Christian
religion, both by its terrors and its rewards. The speech was
accompanied by politic presents, — "six fathoms of tobacco,"
guns for the men, and prunes and raisins for the women and
children, and generous feasts for all.

*0n the point to the west of the Cataraqui Bridge, at present occupied
by the barracks.

THE UPPER ST. LAWRENCE,

256

Meanwhile the construction of the fort went rapidly forward.
Trees were felled, trenches dug, and palisades planted, with a
speed that astonished the indolent Indians. In ten days the
fort was nearly completed, and leaving a sufficent force for its
defence, by the 1st of August Frontenac reached Montreal.
The grasp of a master's hand was felt. ' France held the key of
the great lakes.

The view of Kingston on page 253, shows in the foreground
one of the quaint martello towers that guard the harbour; in the
middle distance, the Military College, where Canadian j'ouths
are trained for the service of their country; and in the back-
ground, the city with its imposing public buildings and churches.

We embark at Kingston for the sail down the majestic St.
Lawrence.

With the exception of the Amazon at its flood, the St. Law-
rence is the largest river in the world. Its basin contains more
than half of all the fresh water on the planet. At its issue
from Lake Ontario it is two and a half miles wide, and is sel-
dom less than two miles. At its mouth it is upwards of thirty
miles wide, and at Cape Gaspe the Gulf is nearly a hundred
miles wide.

There are three features of special interest in the St. Law-
rence— the Thousand Islands, the Rapids, and the highlands of
the north shore from Quebec down. The first are the perfection
of beauty, the second are almost terrible in their strength, and
the last are stern and grand, rising at times to the sublime. The
noble river has been made the theme of a noble poem by Charles
Sangster, a Canadian writer, who is too little known in his own
country. I am glad of the opportunity to enrich these pages
with quotations from his spirited verse.

The Lake of the Thousand Islands begins immediately below
Kingston, and stretches down the river for forty or fifty miles,
varying from six to twelve miles in width. This area is pro-
fusely strewn with islands of all sizes, from the little rock, giv-
ing precarious foothold to a stunted juniper or a few wild
flowers, to the large island, stretching in broad farms and wav-
ing with tall and stately forests. Instead of a thousand, there
are in all some eighteen hundred of these lovely isles.

"W " ' \

256

"NATURE'S CARNIVAL OF ISLES."

Sailing out of broad Ontario, we leave on the left the Lime-
stone City, our Canadian Woolwich, with its martello towers
and forts. Here, during the war of 1812-15, was built a large
line-of-battle ship of 132 guns, at a cost of £850,000, much of
the timber, and even water casks, i'or use on these unsalted seas,
being sent out from England. At the close of the war it was
sold for a couple of hundred pounds.

THE THOUSAND ISLES.

Passing Forts Henry and Frederick, we enter the lovely
Archipelago of the St. Lawrence — " Nature's carnival of isles."
On they come, thronging to meet us and to bid us welcome to
their fairy realm. They are of all conceivable shapes and sizes,

TwiLiaHT AMID THK THOUSAND ISLANDS.

scattered in beauteous confusion upon the placid stream. Some
are festooned and garlanded with verdurous vines, like a young
wife in her bridal tire, wooing the river's fond embrace. Others
seem sad and pensive, draped with grave and solemn foliage,
like a widow's weeds of woe.

Here the river banks slope smoothly to the water's edge, and
the thronging trees come trooping down, like a herd of stately-
antlered stags, to drink ; or like Pharaoh's daughter and her
train to the sacred Nile. See where the white-armed birch, the
lady of the forest, stands ankle deep in the clear stream, and
laves its beauteous tresses. And behold, where the grey old
rocks rear themselves like stern-browed giants above the waves,
grave and sad, tear-stained and sorrowful — brooding, perchance,
of the old years before the flood. See with what nervous energy

THE THOUSAND ISLANDS.

257

they cling, those timorous-looking pines, with their bird-like
claws grappling the rock as tenaciously as the vulture holds his
prey, or a miser's skinny fingers clutch his gold.

Here is a shoal of little islets looking like a lot of seals just
lifting their heads above the waves and pearing cautiously
around — you would scarce be surprised to see them dive and
reappear under your very eyes. And over all float the white-
winged argosies of fleecy clouds sailing in that other sea, the
ambient air in whose

lower strata we crawl,
like crabs upon the
ocean floor. How
beautiful they are,
those spiritual-looking
clouds ! How airily
they float in the trem-
ulously palpitating,
infinite blue depths of
sunny sky, like the
convoy of snowy-pin-
ioned angels in the
picture of the Assump-
tion of St. Catharine,
bearing so tenderly her
world-weary but tri-
umphant spirit, white-
robed and amaranth-
crowned, rejoicing

from her cruel martyrdom, and holding in her hand the victor
palm, floating, floating, serenely away, —

" To summer high in bliss upon the hills of God."

Or seem they not like islands of the blessed, floating on a
halcyon sea. How delicate they are, these snowy Alps on Alp
in gay profusion piled, and yet as white and soft as carded wool
— so remote, so ethereal, so uncontaminated with the dust and
defilement of earth. Thus do some souls appear to live above
the cares of earth, on the cool, sequestered hills of life, free from
17

_Sfe©S^

The Devil's Oven, Thousand Islands.

wiw.ujHj jBMitmitfgT

258

ISLAND VISTAS.

the dust and defilement of sin. They seem to breathe a purer
atmosphere, to be visited by airs from heaven, and to hold com-
munion with its blessed spirits.

What lovely vistas open up before us as our steamer glides,
swan-like, on her devious way. Now the islands seem to block
up the path, like sturdy highwaymen, as if determined to arrest
our progress. We seem to be immured in this intricate maze
like Diedalous within the Cretan Labyrinth. Now, like the
rocky doors in Ali-Baba's story, as by some magic " Open sesame,"

Among tue Islands.

they part and stand aside and close again behind us, vista after
vista unfolding in still increasing loveliness. How the smiling
farm-houses wave welcome from the shore, and the patient
churches stand, like Moses interceding for the people's sins,
invoking benediction on the land, and pointing weary mortals
evermore to heaven. All nature wears a look of Sabbath calm,
and seems to kneel with folded hands in prayer. See that lone
sea-gull, " like an adventurous spirit hovering o'er the deep," or
like the guardian angel of the little bark beneath. What a
blessed calm broods o'er the scene ! The very isles seem lapped
in childhood's blessed sleep.

THE ISLANDS IN VERSE.

259

Isle after isle
Is passed, as we glide tortuously throutjh
The opening vistas, that uprise and sniilo
Ui)()U us from th-i ever-changing view.
Here nature, lavish of her wealth, did strew
Her flocks of panting islets on the breast
Of the admiring river, where they grew,

" Nature's Cabnfval of Isles,"
Thousand Islands.

Like shapes of beauty, formed to give a zest
To the charmed mind, like waking visions of the blest.

Red walls of granite rise on either hand,
Rugged and smooth ; a proud young eagle soars
Above the stately evergreens, that stand
Like watclif ul sentinels on these God-built towers ;

TT irm rritl

260

RIVER TOWNS.

And near yon beds of many-colored flowers
Browse two majestic deer, and at their side
A spotted fawn all innocently cowers;
In the rank brushwood it attempts to hide,
While the strong-antlered stag steps forth with lordly stride.

On, through the lovely Archipelago,
Glides the swift bark. Soft summer matins ring
From every isle. The wild fowl come and go,
Regardless of our presence. On the wing.
And perched upon the boughs, the gay birds sing
Their loves : This is their summer paradise ;
From morn till night their joyous caroling
Delights the ear, and through the lucent skies
Ascends the choral hymn in softest symphonies.

Yon lighthouse seems like a lone watcher keeping ceaseless
vigil the livelong night for some lost wanderer's return; or like
a new Prometheus, chained forever to the rock, and holding

ii?r--^r

■^^■^rr~''''T;^^l?;7;r^'^s:»r-??^sr'i'^

LioHTUocsE IN Thousand Islands.'

aloft the heaven-stolen fire ; or like a lone recluse in his still
hermitage, nightly lighting up his votive lamp to guide bewil-
dered wayfarers amid the storm.

Brockville, Prescott, Iroquois, Morrisburg and Cornwall, are
pleasant towns on the Canadian side of the river ; and on the
American side, Clayton, Morriston and Ogdensburg. Near Pres-
cott rises the quaint and ruined windmill, the mute witness of
the heroic defence, by stout-hearted Canadian militia, of their
hearths and homes at the battle of Crysler's Farm.

On the bank of the majestic St. Lawrence, about midway
between the thriving town of Prescott and the picturesque
village of Maitland, on the Canada side, but in full view from
the American shore, lies a lonely graveyard, which is one of

BARBARA HECK.

261

the most hallowed spots in the broad area of the continent.
Here, on a gently rising ground overlooking the rushing river,
is the quiet " God's acre," in which slumbers the dust of that
saintly woman who is honoured in both hemispheres as the
mother of Methodism in both the United States and Canada.
On a bright day in October, I made, in company with my
friend, the Rev. T. G. Williams, a pilgrimage to this place
invested with so many tender memories. The whole land
was ablaze with autumn's glowing tints, each bank and
knoll and forest clump, like Moses' bush, " ever burning, ever
unconsumed." An old wooden church, very small and very
quaint, fronts the passing highway. It has seats but for forty-
eight persons, and is still used on funeral occasions. Its tiny
tinned spire gleams brightly in the sunlight, and its walls have
been weathered by many a winter storm to a dusky gray.
Around it on every side "heaves the turf in many a mouldering
mound," for during well-nigh one hundred years it has been
the burying-place of the surrounding community. A group of
venerable pines keep guard over the silent sleepers in their
narrow beds. But one grave beyond all others arrests our
attention. At its head is a plain white marble slab on a gray
stone base. On a shield-shaped panel is the following inscrip-
tion :

IN MEMORY OF

PAUL HECK,

BORN 1730, DIED 1792.

BARBARA,

WIFE OF PAUL HECK,
BORN 1734, DIED AUG. 17, 1804.

And this is all. Sublime in its simplicity; no laboured
epitaph; no fulsome eulogy; her real monument is the Meth-
odism of the New World.

Near by are the graves of seventeen other members of the
Heck family. Among them is that of a son of Paul and Bar-
bara Heck, an ordained local preacher, whose tombstone bears
the following inscription : " Rev. Samuel Heck, who laboured

262

HISTORIC SOUVENIRS.

in his Master's vineyard for upwards of thirty-eight years.
Departed this life in the triumphs of faith on the 18th of
August, 1844, aged seventy-one years and twenty-one days."
Another Samuel Heck, son of the above-named, a Wesleyan
minister, died in 1846, aged, as is recorded with loving minute-
ness, "thirty years, seven months, fifteen uays." To the
members of this godly family the promised blessing of the
righteous, even length of days, was strikingly vouchsafed. On
six graves lying side by side I noted the following ages: 73,
78, 78, 53, 75, 59. On others I noted the following oges : 63,
62, 70, 70. I observed, also, the grave of little Barbara Heck,
aged three years and six months. The latest dated grave is
that of Catharine Heck, a granddaughter of Paul and Barbara
Heck, who died 1880, aged seventy-eight years. She was de-
scribed by my friend Mr. Williams — who, while I made t^ -se
notes, sketched the old church — as a saintly soul, handsome in
person, lovely in character, well educated, and refined. She
bequeathed at her death a generous legacy to the Missionary
Society of the Methodist Church of Canada. Near the grave
of Barbara Heck is that of her life-long companion and friend,
the beautiful Catharine Sweitzer, who married at the age of
sixteen Philip Embury. Here also is the grave of John Law-
rence, a pious Methodist who left Ireland with Embury, and
afterwards married his widow.

After visiting these honoured graves, I had the pleasure of
dining with three grandchildren of Paul and Barbara Heck.
The eldest of these, Jacob Heck, a vigorous old man of eighty,
was baptized by Losee, the first Methodist missionary in
Canada. A kind-souled and intelligent granddaughter of Bar-
bara Heck evidently appreciated the honours paid her sainted
ancestry. She brought out a large tin box containing many
interesting souvenirs of her grandparents. Among these were
a silver spoon with the monogram

P. B.
H.,

stout leather-bound volumes of Wesley's sermons, dated 1770;
Wesley's journal, dated 1743; General Haldimand's "discharge"

OLD HECK HOUSE.

2iU3

of Paul Heck from the volunteer troops, etc. But of special
interest was the old German black-letter Bible, bearing the
following clear-written inscriptif>n: "Paul Heck, sein buch,ihm
gegeben darin zu lerrun die Neiderreiche sprache. Amen."
The printed music of the Psalter at the end of the book was
like that described by Longfellow in Priscilla's psalm-book :

"Rough-hewn angular notes, like atones in the wall of a churcliyard,
Darkened and overhung by the running vine of the verses."

This, it is almost certain, is the very Bible which Barbara Heck
held in her hands when she died. Dr. Abel Stevens thus
dscribes the scene : " Her death was befitting her life ; her old
German Bible, the guide of her life in Ireland, her resource
during the falling away of her people in New York, her in-
separable companion in all her wanderings in the wilderness
of Northern New York and Canada, was her oracle and com-
fort to the last. She was found sitting in her chair dead, with
the well-used and endeared volume open on her lap. And thus
passed away this devoted, obscure, unpretentious woman, who
so faithfully, yet unconsciously, laid the foundations of one of
the greatest ecclesiastical structures of modem ages, and whose
name shall shine with ever-increasing brightness as long as the
sun and moon endure."

Many descendants of the Embury and Heck families occupy
prominent positions in the Methodist Church in Canada, and
many more have died happy in the Lord. Philip Embury's
great-great-grandson, John Torrance, jun., Esq., has long filled
the honourable and responsible po.sition of treasurer and
trustee-steward of three of the largest Methodist churches of
Montreal.

Just opposite the elegant home of Mr. George Heck, whose
hospitalities I enjoyed, is the old Heck house, a large, old-
fashioned structure dating from near the beginning of the
century. It is built in the quaint Norman style common in
French Canada, and is flanked by a stately avenue of vener-
able Lombard poplars. Its massive walls, three feet thick, are
like those of a fortress, and the deep casements of the windows
are like its embrasures. The huge stone-flagged kitchen fire-

2G4

A NOBLE MONUMENT.

place is as large as half a dozen in these degenerate days, and
at one side is an opening into an oven of generous dimensions,
which makes a swelling apse on the outside of the wall. In
the grand old parlour the panelling of the huge and stately
mantelpiece is in the elaborate style of the last century. From
the windows a magnificent view of the noble St. Lawrence and
of the American shore meets the sight, as it must with little
change have met that of Barbara Heck one hundred years ago.
Is not the memory of this sainted woman a hallowed link be-
tween the kindred Methodisms of the United States and
Canada, of both of which she was, under the blessing of God,
the foundress? Her sepulchre is with us to this day, but
almost on the boundary line, as if in death as in life she belonged
to each country.

The Methodists of the United States have worthily honoured
the name of Barbara Heck by the erection of a memorial
building in connection with the Garrett Biblical Institute at
Evanston, 111., to be known forever as Heck Hall — " a home
for the sons of the prophets, the Philip Emburys of the coming
century, while pursuing their sacred studies." "Barbara Heck,"
writes Dr. C. H. Fowler, in commemorating this event, " put
her brave soul against the rugged possibilities of the future,
and throbbed into existence American Methodism. The leaven
of her grace has leavened a continent. The seed of her piety
has grown into a tree so immense that a whole flock of com-
monwealths come and lodge in the branches thereof, and its
mellow fruits drop into a million homes. To have planted
American Methodism ; to have watered it with holy tears ; to
have watched and nourished it with the tender, sleepless love
of a mother, and pious devotion of a saint ; to have called out
the first minister, convened the first congregation, met the first
class, and planned the first Methodist Church edifice, and to
have secured its completion, is to have merited a monument as
enduring as American institutions, and in the order of provi-
dence it has received a monument which the years dannot
crumble, as enduring as the Church of God. The life-work of
Barbara Heck finds its counterpart in the living energies of the
Church she founded."

A TRIBUTE IN VERSE.

265

As I knelt in family prayer with the descendants of this
godly woman, with the old German Bible which had nourished
her earnest piety in my hands, I felt myself brouj,'ht nearer tho
springs of Methodism on the continent ; and as I made a night
railway journey to my distant home, the following retiections
shaped themselves into verse :

AT BARBARA HECK'S GRAVE.

I stood beside the lonoly grave where sleep

The nshes of Dame Barbara Heck, whoso hand
Planted the vital sued wherefroin this land

Hath ripened far and wide, from steep to deep,

The golden harvest which the angels reap,

And garner home the sheaves to heaven's strand.
From out this lowly grave there doth expand

A sacred vision and we dare not weep.

Millions of hearts throughout the continent!
Arise and call thee blessed of the Lord,

His handmaiden on holiest mission sent —
To teach with holy life His Holy Word.

0 rain of God, descend in showers of grace.
Refresh with dews divine each thirsty place.

BARBARA HECK's GERMAN BIBLE.

1 held within my hand the timo-worn book

Wherein the brave-souled woman oft had read

The oracles divine, and inly fed
Her soul with thoughts of God, and took
Deep draughts of heavenly wisdom, and forsook

All lesser learning for what (iod had said ;

And by His guiding luind was gently led
Into the land of rest for which we look.
Within her hand she held this book when came

The sudden call to join the white-robed throng.
Her name shall live on earth in endless fame,

Her high-souletl faith bo tlioujo of endless song,
O book divine, that fed that lofty faith,
Enbrave, like hers, our souls in hour of death.

tsmm'!''^

266

DOWN THE R A FIDS.

THE RAPIDS O? THE ST. LAWRENCE.

The rapids begin about a hundred miles above Montreal, and
occur at intervals till we reach that city. The actual descent is
two hundred and thirty-four feet, which is overcome in return-
ing by forty-one miles of canal, and twenty seven locks. Down
this declivity the waters of live great lakes hurl themselves in
their effort to reach the ocean.

As we approach the rapids, the current becomes every moment
swifter and stronger, as if gathering up its energies and accu-
mulating momentum for its headlong rush down the rocks, like
a strong-limbed Roman girding for the race. Onward the river

Descending Lachine Rafids.

rolls in its majestic strength, oversweeping all opposing obstacles,
yet with not a ripple on its surface to betray its terrible velocity
— by its very swiftness rendered smooth as glass. With still
accelerated speed it sweeps onward, deep and atronij, heedless of
the sunny isles that implore it to remain — like a stern, uncon-
querable will, scorning all the seductions of sense in the earnest
race of life. As we glide on, we see the circling eddy indicating
the hidden opposition to that restless endeavour. Now the calm
surface becomes broken into foam, betraying, as it were, —

•• The speechless wrath that rises and subsides
In the white lips and tremor of the ft.ce."

THE LONG SAULT.

267

We are now in the Long Sault. The gallant steamer plunges
down the steep. The spray leaps right across the bows. Now
she lifts her head above the waves, and like a strong swimmer
struggling with the stream — like CsBsar in the Tiber, dashing
the spray from out his eyes — she hurls them aside, bravely
breasting their might, strenuously wrestling with their wrath.
The mad waves race beside us like a pack of hungry, ravening

Baft in thb Rapids.

wolves, "like a herd of frantic tK-a-nionsters yoUing for their
prey, in.satiabl<-, implacable."

Are we pa.st ? Have we escapc^i ? Now we can breathe more
freely. We have come those nine miles in fifteen ininuteH, and
our gallant craft, like a tirud swimmer exhausted l>y the buffet-
ing of the waves, wearied! v strugules on. It is with a sense of
relief that we glide out into the calm v/aters below.

The sensation of perceptibly mailing down hUl is one of the
strangest conceivable. The feeling is that of sinking, .sinking',

268

LACHINE RAPIDS.

down, down, somewhat akin to that in some hideous nightmare,
when we seem to be falling, falling, helplessly, helplessly, adown
infinite abysses of yelling, roaring waters. But after the first
strange terror is past, the feeling is one of the most exultant
imaginable. It is like riding some mettlesome, high-spirited
horse. A keen sympathy with the vessel is established, and all
sense of danger is forgotten in the inspiring excitement.

The channel, in some places narrow and intricate, is marked
out by fioating buoys. See, there is one struggling with the
stream, like a strong swimmer in his agony. Now it is borne

down by the restless
current, and now with
a desperate effort it
rises above the angry
waves with a hopeless,
appealing look, and an
apparent gesture of en-
treaty that, at a little
distance, seems quite
human.

Of the remaining
rapids, the Cascades
are the more beautiful,
but the Lachine Rap-
ids, immediately above
Montreal, are the more
grand and terrible, be-
cause the more dangerous. In the channel, hidden rocks are
more numerous. Before we enter the rapids, the Indian pilot,
Baptiste, boards the steamer. He takes his place at the
wheel, seconded by three other stalwart men. You can see
by his compressed lips and contracted brow that he feels
the responsibility of his position. Upon his skill depend the
lives of all on board. But his eagle eye quails not, his grim,
imperturV)able features blanch not with fear. His cool com-
posure rt-assures us. A breathless silence prevails. With a
swift, wild sweep and terrible energy, the remorseless river
bears us directly towards a low and rocky island. Nearer,
nearer we approach, Baptiste! Baptiste ! do you mean to dash

Running the Rapids.

THE RAPIDS IN VERSE.

269

US on that cruel crag ? We almost involuntarily hold our breath
and close our eyes and listen for the crash.

" Hard-a-port ! " The chains rattle, and with a disdainful
sweep we swing around ; the trees almost brush the deck, and
we flout the threatened danger in the face.

But new perils appear. See those half-sunken rocks lying in
wait, like grisly, gaunt sea-monstei's ready to spring upon their
prey ? We seem to be in the same dilemma as Bunyan's pil-
grim, when between gia its Pope and Pagan. One or other of
them will surely destroy us. How shall we avoid this yawning
Scylla and yet escape thot ravening Chary bdis ?

Well steered, Baptiste ! We almost grazed the rock in pass-
ing : Hark ! how these huge sea-monsters foam with rage and
growl with disappointment at our escape. Our noble pilot
guides the gallant vessel as a skilful horseman reins his pranc-
ing and curvetting steed.

Out Canadian poet, Sangster, thus describes these glorious
rapix^ A the St. Lawrence :

The merry isles have floated idly past ;
And suddenly the waters boil and leap,
On either side the foamy spraj is cast,
Hoarse Genii through the shouting rapid sweep,
And pilot us unharmed adown the hissing steep.

The startled (ialloppes shout as we draw nigh.
The Sault, delighted, hails our reckless bark,
The graceful Cedars murmur joyously,
The vexed Cascades threaten our little ark,
That sweeps, love-freighted, to its distant mark.
Again the troubled deep heaps surge on surge.
And howling billows sweep the waters dark,
Stunning the ear with their stentoiiau <lirge,
That loudens as they strike the rocks resisting ver|,-e.

And we have passed the terrible Lachine,
Have felt a fearless tremor thrill the soul.
As the huge waves upreared their crests of green,
Holding our feathery bark in their control.
As a strong eagb' holds an oriole.
The hvvAii grows dizzy with the whirl and hiss
Of the fast-crowding billows, as they mil.
Like struggling demmis, to the vexed abyss,
Lashing the tortured crags with wild, demoniac bliss.

I '.

270 MONTREAL ONCE MORE.

Mont Royale rises proudly on the view,
A royal mount, indeed, with verdure crowned,
Bedecked with regal dwellings, not a few,
Which here and there adorn the mighty mound.
St. Helens next, a fair, enchanted ground,
A stately isle in glowing foliage dressed,
Laved by the dark St. Lawrence all around,
Giving a grace to its enamoured breast.
As ])loasing to the eye as H<jchelaga's crest.

Behold before us, striding across the stream, like some huge
centipede — like some enormously exaggerated hundred-footed
caterpillar — the wondrous bridge which weds the long-divorced
banks of the St. Lawrence. Beneath it we swiftly glide, and
skirting the massy docks of the Canadian Liverpool, and thread-
ing our devious way through the mazy forest of masts, we find
our berth under the protection of the Royal Mount, which gives
to this stately city its name. With what calm majesty it draws
its brown mantle of shadow around it as the day departs, and
prepares to outwatch the coming night, guarding faithfully
for evermore the city sleeping at its feet.

See how the purple St. Hilaire and the blue hills in the
remotiji distance wear upon their high, bald foreheads, the good-
night smile of the setting sun while the lower levels are flooded
with darkness — like a crown of gold upon the brow of some
iEthiop king.

Behold how the twin towers of the lofty " Church of our
Lady" lift them.selves above the city — a symbol <• that relig-
ious system which dominates the land. And look where the
twinkling lamps reveal the hucksters' stalls, huddling around
the " Church of Good Succour," like mendicants round the skirts
of a priest. Trade and commerce seek to jostle from her place
religion, rebuking ever their unrestful and corroding care.
Listen to the heart of iron beating in yon lofty tower :—

Now their weird, unearthly changes
Emg the beautiful wild chimeH,
Low at times and loud at times,
And mingling like a poet's rhymes.
Like the psalniB iu some old cluiatur,
When the nuns sing in the choir.
And the great bell tolls among them
Like the chanting of a friar.

BAY OF QUINTE.

271

Proceeding westward from Kingston, one ought not to miss
the charming sail up the Bay of Quinte — one of the most de-
lightful excursions one can make. The route is completely
land-locked, so there is no danger of sea-sickness. The many
long and narrow indentations of the land on either side, present
water vistas of exquisite beauty, and the softly rounded and
richly-wooded hills, and cultivated upland slopes, present only
images of peace and plenty. One of the most lovely of these
inlets is the Bay of Picton. The town of Picton is one of
idyllic beauty. The drives to the mysteriously fed Lake of the
Mountain, and to the rolling sand dunes on the south shore, are
full of interest.

Other pleasant towns on arms of this Briarian bay are
Napanee, Deseronto, Shannonville, the beautiful city of Belle-
ville, the seat of Albert College, and Trenton. On the shores of
Lake Ontario are Brighton, Colborne, Grafton, Cobourg, a town
of four thousand, for fifty years the seat of a Methodist College
which, under the brilliant administration of Chancellor Nelles,
has sent forth thousands of graduates to mould the intellectual
life of the province \ Port Hope, with a population of six
thousand and admirable railway connections wich the interior ;
Newcastle, Bowmanville, Oshawa and Whitby, the two latter
with admirable Cv^Uegesfor the higher education of women; and
the city of Toronto.

272

PARLIAMENT D U/LD/NGS.

o
a
o
H

5 P

I s

■S H

? 'f

t 2

i ^

Toronto of old.

273

TOIKJNTO,

The natno Toronto," says Mr. S. E. Dawson, "was oii<,rinally
applied to the whole district in the neirrhbourhood of iiake

«fr

Simcoe. Thus, on some old maps, Georgian Bay is Toronto
Bay, Lake .Sinicoo is Toronto Lake, and the Severn and Humbcr
18

274

TORONTO'S FIRST GERM.

rivers are both called Toronto lliver, and the old writers used
the word in as wide an application. The town which Oov-
ernor Siincoe founded ho called York, and it was not utitil
1884, when the city was incorporated, that the musical Irotjuois
word Toronto* (siojnifyinj^ trees in the water) was adcjpted
and limited to this place. As early as 1740 it was reco^^'nized
n-s an important locality, for the Indians froiri the north used
to pass up the Severn, across Lake Simcoo, and make a porta;^e
to the H umber, wliich here falls into Lake Ontario. It was

Old Block uouse.

to cut off this trade from j^'oinj^; to (Jhouagen (Oswego) tliat the
French Imilt a fort and trading; post near th(i mouth of i lo
Humber, whi'ch they called Fort Rouilld This had been long
abandotKid when Simcoe founded the present city."

The Rev. Dr. Scadding, in his interesting account of "Toronto's
First Germ," says : — " J'iy a popular misuse of terms the word
'Toronto' catne to bo applied to the small trading-post or 'fort,'
established in 1741), on the north shore of Lake Ontario, not far

*Tho lonj< low Hpit of land forming tlio harbour, wlioii it was <l(!riHt'ly
woodod, wuiild natiiruU" Huj^goat this iiamu for the district oponod up by a
portatfo thus iduiititiud from tho lake.

:■

FORT ROUIIJJL

275

I ^

Iroin till) mouth of the
JImiihor. Tlic proper
and onieiixl Maiii(3 of
this erection was Fort
llouillo, HO called in
compliment to Antoin(!
Louis Rouilh', the Co-
lonial Minister of the
day. But tra<lers and
amreurH du hoin pre-
ferred to speak of
Fort liouille as
Fort Toronto,
because it
stood at the
landinL,'-
p 1 a c e
of the
south-
e ru
te r-
m inu s
of the trail
which con-
ducted up to the
well-known ' To-
on to,' the ])lace of
concourse, the ffriiat
Huron rendezvous
.sixty miles to the
north; and the popu-
lar phrase()lo;^fy ulti-
mately ])rcvaiied.

" Fort, Toronto was
nothin<f mon- than a
stockad(!d storehouse,
with (juarters for a
keeper nnd a few sol-
diers, ai'tt.'r the fashion
of a small Hudson's

27G

" THE OLD FRENCH FORT."

Bay tr)ulin{,'-post. A larf,'e portion of tho site which, fifty
yoars ugo, usimI coininonly to be visited as that of the 'Old

Custom IIoiihk, Toronto.

French Fort,' is now fallen into the lake ; but depressions,
marking tlie situation of cellars and portions of some ancient
foundations connected with out-buildings are still discernible.

MEMORIAL CAIRN,

'111

as also indications of tlio lino of tlio stockado on tlie nortli
.side. Formerly tlioro were conspicuous renuiins ui llii','!4e(l
iloorinj; and the UascMiient (jf cliinnieys.

"The site of the tnidin;,' eHtal)liHhMient which was thus
<leHtined to he tlie initial jrcrni of tlie present city of Toronto,
is now (inclosed within tlie hounds of the park apijertaininj; to
tlie Kxhihition jjuildinj^s of the city, overlookiri;,' the lake.
Here a cairn or mound, coinnieniorative of the fact, lias heen
erected hy the Corporation (IH7H). On its top rests a mussivc

Osaoouu Hall, ToKo^Tu.

granite boulder, bearinff the following,' inscription : ' This cairn
marks the exact site of Fort Rouille, commonly known as Fort
Toronto, an Indian Trading-post and Stockade, established
A.lJ. 174!), V)y order of the Government of Louis XV., in accord-
ance with the recommendations of the Count de la Calissoniere,
Administrator of New France 1747-1740. Erected by the
Corporation of the City of Toronto, AD. 1.^78.' The boulder
which bears the i iscription has been allowed to retain its
natural features. -t wan dredged up out of the navigable
channel which leadfi Uito ihe adjoinirjg harbour."

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

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1.0

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1.25 1.4

4 6" —

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Hiotogr^hic

Sciences

Corporalion

*S,v^ ^v "^rC^

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23 WIST MA;N STREf t

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14S8&

(716)872-4503

The Mktbopouxan Methodist Cucbcii, Tobonto.

GOVERNOR SIMCOE.

279

In the year 1795, Governor Sinicoe removetJ from Newark
(Niagara), the tirst capital of Upper Canada, to York, which he

St. Jaues' Catuedral, Toronto.

had selected as the seat of government before a single house
was erected in the latter place. He lodged temporarily in a
canvas tent or pavilion, pitched on tho plateau overlooking the

280

THE FOUNDER OF TORONTO.

western end of the bay. It is a matter of historic interest that
this tent had been originally constructed for the distinguished
navigator, Captain James Cook, and was by him used in his ex-
plorations. In 1797 the Provincial Legislature of Upper Canada
was opened in a wooden building near the river Don, whose
site is still commemorated by the name of Parliament Street.
Before this event, however, the founder of Toronto was trans-

8t. Albam's Catuedbal, Toeonto.

ferred to the government of San Domingo. He had employed
the King's Rangers to construct the great northern artery of
commerce, Yonge Street, leading from the city toward the lake
which bears his name, and had projected a comprehensive policy
for the establishment of a provincial university, and for the
development of the resources of the country. On his removal,
however, most of these wise schemes either fell through or were
indefinitely postponed. Land designed for settlement, especially

INCORPORA TION.

281

)

near the infant capital, was seized by speculators, and the
growth and prosperity of the town of York was thereby greatly
retarded.

During the disastrous war of 1812-14, York was twice cap-
tured by the Americans, and many of its public and private
buildings were destroyed by fire. After the war the town
experienced a revival of prosperity, and, as the seat of govern-
ment and the principal courts of law, became the centre of a
somewhat aristocratic society. The unfortunate political dis-
affection of the years
1837 and 1838 seriously
interfered with the
progress of the city of
Toronto, as it was now
called — it had become
incorporated and elected
its first mayor, the cele-
lirated William Lyon
Mackenzie, in 1834.
The principal evidence
oi those troublous times
was a blockhouse or two
like that in our cut on
page 274, long since de-
stroyed.

Within the lifetime of
men still living, Toronto

has grown from an unimportant hamlet to a noble and beautiful
city of one hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants. In commer-
cial enterprise, in stately architecture, and in admirable institu-
tions, it is surpassed by no city in the Dominion. Situated on
an excellent harbour, it has communication by water with all
the ports cf the great lakes and the St. Lawrence, and its
commercial prosperity is fostered by the rich agricultural
country by which it is surrounded, by several railroads and by
the great highways by which the remoter settlements are made
tributary to its growth.

Nothing gave a greater impulse to the material prosperity of

New Westers Methodist Chcrch.

282

RAILWAY DEVELOPMENT.

Toronto than the construction of the railway system, by means
of which the back country became tributary to its markets and
manufactories. The first of these roads was the Northern
Railway, the first sod of which was turned in 1851, amid
imposing ceremonies, by Lady Elgin, the amiable consort of
one of the ablest Governors whom Canada ever possessed. In
course of time the Great Western and Grand Trunk Railways
were constructed, largely through the efforts of Sir Allan

Shebboubnb Street Metuodist Chuboh, Tobomtq.

McNabb and Sir Francis Hincks. The Midland ; Toronto, Grey
and Bruce; and the Ontario and Quebec Railways, now forming
part of the Canadian Pacific Railway system, were subsequently
constructed. However unprofitable some of these roads may
have been to their projectors, they have increased the value of
every acre of land and of every bushel of grain in the region
which they traverse, and, by the increased facilities of traffic
and travel which they furnish, have contributed in no small
degree to make Toronto the great commercial emporium of
the Province of Ontario.

TORONTO'S CIVIC ARCHITECTURE.

283

The recent rapid commercial development of the city of
Toronto may be seen in the construction of large blocks of
wholesale stores, consequent upon the growth of the railway
.system of the province and the extension of trade with the
interior. To accommodate the increasing business of the city, the
large and handsome new Custom House, which would challenge
admiration in any capital in Europe, was erected. It is adorned
by artistically executed medallion busts, in high relief, of dis-
tinguished navigators, and the internal decoration is exceed-
ingly costly and ornate.

To grant the requisite facilities for increasing passenger
traffic the Grand Trunk Railway Company built their capacious
and elegant Union Station, which is the handsomest and most

Exhibition Buildinus, Toronto,

commodious structure of the sort in the Dominion. Increased
postal facilities have also been furnished by the new Post Office
building and by the more frequent mail service and free letter
delivery.

Osgoode Hall, of which we give an engraving, commemo-
rates by its name the first Chief Justice, and one of the ablest
jurists of Upper Canada. The building has undergone remark-
able vicissitudes of fortune, having been at one time employed
as barracks for soldiers, — and the sharp challenge of the sentry
and the loud word of command of the drill sergeant were
heard in the precincts where now learned barristers plead and
begowned judges dispense justice. The building, however,
has undergone such changes that its quondam military occu-
pants would no longer recognize it. The magnificent library

284

PARLIAMENT BUILDINGS.

of the Law Society, and the central court, surrounded by a
peristyle of beautifully carved Caen stone, with its exquisite
pavement of tessellated tile, are among the architectural ckef%
iHoixivre of the province.

The most important public building in the city, and one of
the most important in the Dominion, or indeed on the continent,
is the new Parliament House in Queen's Park. The building
when completed will be five hundred and twelve feet long and
two hundred and seventy-six feet deep, and the main tower

HOBTICDLTUBAL GARDENS AMD PaTILION, TuBOMTO.

will reach a height of one hundred and ninety feet. The
Legislative Chamber will be a magnificent room one hundred
and twelve by eighty feet and fifty-two feet high. It is being
constructed almost entirely of Credit Valley stone and of brick,
of which thirteen million will be employed. The cost of the
building will be about $1,300,000.

Few cities of its size will compare with Toronto for the
number and beauty of its churches. Of some of the more
conspicuous of these we give illustrations. The Metropolitan
Church is a monument of the residence in Canada of the Rev.

TOKOXrO CHURCHES.

2«5

W. Morley Punshon, LL.D., to whose faith in the future of
Methodism in this country, and zeal for its prosperity, it
largely owes its existence. It is hoth externally and internally
one of the most elegant and commo<lions Methodist churches in
the world, and is unequalled by any of which we are aware in
the spacious and beautiful grounds by which it is surrounded.

St. James' Cathedral, may, in like manner, be said to be a
memorial of the energy and religious zeal of the Rev. Dr.
Strachan, the first and most indefatigable bishop whom the

QOVERNMKNT HOUHE, ToRONTU,

Anglican Church in Canada has ever possessed. It is one of
the finest specimens of perpendicular Gothic architecture in
America. The .spire, rising to the height of 306 feet, is grace-
fully proportioned, and the most lofty on the continent, exceed-
ing that of Trinity Church, New York, by twenty-one feet.
The tower contains a chime of bells and the celebrated clock
manufactured by Benson, of London, and which obtained the
highest prize at the Vieni^a Exhibition.

In the interior, the apse, surrounded by fine traceried win-
dows, is finely decorated in carved oak, and contains a monu-

S86

THE INDUSTRIAL EX I I Hi IT ION.

ment to Bishop Strachan. The tower and spire can Vje ascended;
and in addition to seeing the works of the clock, a wide range
of view can be had of the city, the harbour, and surrounding
country. The Anglican Cathedral of St. Alban will, when
completed, be a noble architectural structure, and an ornament
to the city.

The Jarvis Street Baptist Church is an imposing structure of
Queenston and Ohio stone, with columns of New Brunswick
granite and roof of Canadian slates in bands of varied colours.
The interior is amphitheatral in form, and presents very
superior facilities for hearing, seeing, and speaking — in which
respect many churches are very defective. Some of the new
churches of the city are very elegant, as the Western Methodist
Church on Bloor Street, see page 281, and the Sherbourno
Street Methodist Church shown on page 282.

The full-page engraving will give an excellent idea of the
main building of the Industrial Exhibition. This is a structure
of glass and iron, and of cruciform shape. It is two hundred and
ninety-two feet in length from east to west, and two hundred and
thirteen feet in depth. The w^idth of the east and west wings
is sixty-four feet. The coup d'(vU of the interior during the
progress of the Exhibition, as seen from the second or third
gallery, is very imposing. The four radiating arms of the
huge cross are crowded with industrial exhibits of endless
variety, beau*y and utility. Gay bannerets flutter in the
bright sunlight streaming through the transparent walls; a
highly ornate fountain in the centre throws up its silver column
in the air, and a moving multitude swarm in and out of the
vast structure " like bees about their straw-built citadel."

Outside of the main building the scene is no less animated.
Machinery Hall, with its whirr of shafts and belts and revolv-
ing wheels, with its complex machinery all at work with tire-
less sinews and nimble fingers, and apparently almost conscious
intelligence, is a centre of much attraction. The Agricul-
tural and Horticultural Halls are overflowing with the beau-
tiful gifts of Providence to our favoured country. The exhibit
of live stock is immense, and of unsurpassed excellence of
quality. These industrial exhibitions are a great national

THE INDUSTRIAL EXHIBITION.

287

education of the people, and ^ivo new conceptions of the
material wealth of our country and of the mechanical ingenuity
and busincsH energy of our countrymen. The most reiimrkalile
feature of the Exhibition is the provision made for its recep-
tion— the numerous, elegant and exten-sive buildings, nearly ail
of which arose upon a barren plain in the short space of only
three months The success of this Exhibition is admitted, by
those cognizant of the facts, to be due, more than to the efforts
of any other man, to the indefatigiiMe energy of ex-Aldcrman
Withrow, President of the Exhibition Association, who has

Toronto Umivkbsity.

been ably seconded by efficient co-labourers. The small cut
gives a good idea of the grouping of buildings on this busy spot.
Similar local Exhibitions are also held at Hamilton, Brantford,
London, Guelph, Kingston, Ottawa, and many other cities and
towns.

The cut on page 284, gi\ ?s a very good view of the Pavilion
in the Horticultural Gardens. There are few pleasanter spots
in which to saunter over the velvet lawn on a summer after-
noon, the bright sunlight glinting through the trees, and the
graceful fountain in the foreground flashing with showers of
liquid diamonds. In the background is seen the spire of the
handsome Jarvis Street Bciptist (Jhurch.

■ppi

888

GOVERNMENT HOUSE.

Our cut on page 285 gives a good idea of the provision made
by the Province for the comfortable lodging of the representa-
tive of our gracious Sovereign. The broad greensward, the
terraced slopes, the spacious conservatories and elegant Govern-
ment House, furnish facilities for those hospitalities which our
Lieutenant-Governors so gracefully dispense. The castellated-

, At High Park, Toronto.

looking tower to the right is that of St. Andrew's Presbyterian
Church, of which the accomplished Rev. D. J. Macdonnell, B.D.,
is the popular pastor.

The University Buildings in the Queen's Park are the noblest
specimens of Norman architecture on the continent. The
massive tower, the quaint arcades, the open-roofed Convocation

^^■^iJi^iUiSi^ii&v'-^-AX

THE EDUCATIONAL CENTRE.

S89

Hall, with their varied details of bracket and corbel, in which
grotesque faces grin and leer, like the creations of a distem-
pered monkish dream — an odd piece of medisevalism in the
broad glare of the nineteenth century — will well repay a careful
study. Trinity, Wycliffe, Knox, St. Michael's, McMaster Hall,
and several medical colleges make Toronto, in a very conspicuous
degree, the educational centre of the Province.

The suburbs of Toronto present many delightful " bits " that
would delight the pencil of an artist. One of the most delight-
ful of these is High Park, generously donated to the city by
J. G. Howard, Esq.

The following fine sonnet by Mr. W. D. Lighthall, of Mont-
real, expresses the genial sentiment that we believe animates
the people of that sister city towards Toronto:

Queen city ! Sister-queen of ours,

On thy clear brow shine bright the crown !
Broad be thy sway and fair thy towers,

And, honoured, keep thou evil down.
Sublimely thy straightforward eyes

Are looking to the great ideals :
Lead on, lead on ! be free, be wise ;

And surge thou o'er with noble zeals.
Contest with us the race of Good :

Grow mightier, if thou mayest, than we :
In sisterhood and brotherhood

There is no room for jealousy.
Extend thy quays and halls and bowers,
And long be sister-queen of ours I

'^es:

290

NIAGARA.

THE NIAGARA FRONTIER.

Few parts of the Dominion of Canada present sucK a remark-
able combination of picturesque scenery and stirring historic
associations as the Niagara frontier, especially that part reach-
ing from the great cataract to the mouth of the river. It
unites the charm of soft pastoral and sylvan landscape, and the
wildest and grandest sublimity.

Probably the greatest scenic attraction of the continent of

OOVEBNOR SiHCOE.

America is the Falls of Niagara. These are reached in a few
hours from Toronto by steamer to Niagara and by rail to the
Falls. The enlightened policy of the Canadian and American
Governments, adopted at the suggestion of Lord DufFerin, of
preserving forever as a park for the people the environment of
the grandest waterfall in the world, and the many other
attractions of the frontier, will always make it a favourite
tourist resort. We begin our survey with the historic old town
of Niagara, and abridge from a recent number of Harper's
Monthly, some Interesting facts concerning the ancient borough.

HISTORIC MEMORIES.

291

On entering the river we pass on the left old Fort Niagara,
on the very site of the original fort planted by La Salle in 1678,
and haunted with historic memories. To the right rises the
dismantled bastion of Fort Missisauga, erected since the war of
1812. A mile higher up are the ruins of Fort George, which
bore the brunt of the war of 1812, and was blown up by Col.
Vincent, to prevent it falling into the hands of the American
invaders. The quiet town, embowered amid its orchards and
gardens, presents a picture of idyllic repose. Far different was
the stormy scene when, with a solitary exception, every one
of its four hundred houses were given to the flames at an hour's
notice by the American army.

Niagara is the Plymouth Rock of Upper Canada, and was
once its proud capital city. Variously known in the past as
Loyal Village, Butlersbury, Nassau, and Newark, it had a daily
paper as early as 1792, and wad a military post of distinction
before the present century; its real beginnings, however, being
contemporaneous with the Revolutionary War. Here, within
two short hours' sail or ride of the populous and busy cities of
Toronto ard Buffalo, we come upon a spot of intensest quiet, in
the shadow of whose ivy -mantled church tower sleep trusted
servants of the Georges, and their Indian allies. The place has
been overtaken by none of that unpicburesque commercial
prosperity which further up the frontier threatens to destroy all
the natural beauties of the river banks.

The Welland Canal and the Grand Trunk and Grea£ Western
railway systems diverted from Niagara the great part of the
carrying trade, and with it that growth and activity which
have signalized the neighbouring cities of Canada. " Refuse
the Welland Canal entrance to your town," said the commis-
sioners, "and the grass will grow in your streets." The predic-
tion has been realized. St. Catharines is a flourishing neigh-
bour, while Niagara, with a harbour in which the navy of
England might ride, se'^ _ .. ov»<e» crop the turf up to the door-
steps of the brass-knockered, wide-windowed houses, while the
classic goose roams through the town. When the red-coated
militia of the Dominion are encamped on the breezy common,
the unwonted bustle and stir in the quiet old town make it

?r.aii>»;iwfft? ww:-'ftj trnffmrn^mm^iimm^'

292

FIRST PARLIAMENT.

the more easy to summon a picture of that remote past when
Niagara, then Newark, figured as a gay frontier military post.

Here Governor Simcoe opened the first Upper Canadian Legis-
lature; and later, from here General Brock planned the defence
of Upper Canada. While the cities of Western New York,
which have now far eclipsed it, were rude log settlements, at
Newark some little attempt was made at decorum and society.

Near Fort George, less than a century ago, stood the first
Parliament House of Upper Canada. Here, seventy years
before President Lincoln's Emancipation Proclamation, the first
United Empire Loyalist Parliament, like the embattled farmers
of Concord, " fired a shot heard round the world." For one of
the first measures of the exiled patricians was to pass an act
forbidding slavery. Few readers know that at Newark, now
Niagara, Ontario, was enacted that law by which Canada be-
came not only the first country in the world to abolish slavery,
but, as such, a safe refuge for the fugitive slaves from the
Southern States.

After much hesitation and perplexity. Governor Simcoe de-
cided to fix the seat of government at Newark, where a small
frame house served him for the executive residence as well as
the Parliament building. Traces of the fish-ponds which sur-
rounded it may still be detected in the green depressions of the
river-bank where it stood. A landed gentleman and a member
of the British House of Commons, Governor Simcoe voluntarily
relinquished the luxuries of his beautiful English home and
estates to bury himself in the wilderness, and use his executive
powers for the service of his country in establishing the govern-
ment of Canada on broad and secure foundations. We read of
the first Governor of Upper Canada that he lived in a noble
and hospitable manner. Mrs. Simcoe not only performed the
duties of wife and mother, but acted as her husband's secretary.
She was a gifted draughtswoman, and her maps and plans
served Governor Simcoe in laying out the towns of the new
colony.

With the sweet chimes from its belfry-tower pealing out
across the village park, every visitor, when first he comes in
sight of St. Mark's gray buttresses, must echo Dean Stanley's

57: MARICS.

293

involuntary exclamation, " Why, this is old England right over
Again!" Surrounded by a churchyard full of . moss-grown
tombstones, and shaded by drooping elms, the air sweet in
springtime with the scent of wild flowers, St. Mark's is the
very picture of an English country church. Entering the dim,
quiet interior, the legend " Fear God! honour the king !" carved

St. Mark's Chuf'^h, Niagara.

on a mural tablet, greets the eye, to renew the impression of
the Christian patriotism which animated the early settlers of
the town. This stone is to the memory of Colonel John Butler,
of Butler's Rangers, His Majesty's Commissioner for Indian
Affairs, and of Wyoming massacre memory. He was the founder
of St. Mark's Church. The parish register contains this rcoord
of his death: "1796. May 15.— Col. John Butler, of the
Bangers. (My patron.) Robert Addison, min'r of Niagara."

294

HISTORIC TABLETS.

It is a gratifying fact that more recent investigation has
proved much of the obloquy cast upon Colonel Butler by earlier
writers of American history to have been due to the heated
partisan prejudice of that time.

Few churches in America can boast so many quaint and
peculiar tablets as St. Mark's. One is to the memory of an
officer who "served in most of the glorious actions of the
Peninsular war." A gallery supported by slender pillars runs
around the church, and the high, square box pews are curtained

Intebior or St. MABs'a

in red. The neutral tints of the stained glass in the chancel
windows, harmonizing well with the faded quaintness of the
gray interior, are a relief to the eye. Established in 1792, the
parish has had but three rectors since the beginning. The
church itself, the oldest but one in Upper Canada, was built in
1802.

The names in the earlier pages of the register represent the
different nationalities which made up the motley population of
a stirring frontier town — English, Irish, Scotch, French, Indians
and Negroes, with a generous sprinkling of Tories from the
Hudson and Mohawk.

THE ORPHANAGE.

295

On the outskirts of the town stands a large, square, yellow
brick house, mantled in ivy and clematis. Its broad and
spacious porch looks upon an old-fashioned garden and orchard.
Approaching it by the country road that leads off from the
town, past detached villas, the green common, and over an old
stone bridge, one sees shy, curious little faces peering out
through the fence pickets. For it is here, under the name of

Miss Rye's Orphanage.

" Our Western Home," that Miss Rye, one of the most distin-
guished of England's women philanthropists, has established
her famous orphanage. Since 1869, when the house, formerly
the old Niagara county jail, was opened, over 2,000 London
waifs, ranging in age from two to sixteen, have found a home
under this roof.

Old Fort Missisauga, iis walls

" Thick as a feudal keep, with loop-holes slashed,"

S96

FORT MISSISAUGA.

lies to the north of the town of Niagara, on a bluff above the
lake, and in the nooks and crannies of its rained arches innu-
merable pigeons nest. Built from the ruins of the ancient town,
it serves to keep in mind traditions of that bleak December
night when the hapless inhabitants of the little settlement
were turned into the streets to brave the ice and snow of
a Canadian winter. To England, then absorbed in a deadly
struggle with Napoleon, this frontier war of 1812 was as
nothing in comparison with the mightier interest at stake, but
of vital moment to the pioneers fleeing from the whirlwind of
fire and sword which, beginning with Newark, swept the whole
frontier, to culminate in the burning of Buffalo, then the largest
settlement on the Niagara border.

FOBT MlSSiaAtTGA, NIAGARA.

UNITED EMPIRE LOYALISTS.

Tourists stroll frequently to the grassy ramparts of old Fort
George, whose irregular outlines are still to be traced upon the
open plains which now surround it. Here landed, in 1783-84,
ten thousand United Empire Loyalists, who, to keep inviolate
their oaths of allegiance to the King, quitted their freeholds
and positions of trust and honour in the States to begin life
anew in the unbroken wilds of Upper Canada. Little has been
written of the sufferings and privations endured by " the
makers " of Upper Canada. Students and specialists who have
investigated the story of a flight equalled only by that of the
Huguenots after the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, have
been led to admire the spirit of unselfish patriotism which

]

U. E. LOYALISTS.

led over one hundred thousand fugitives to self-exile. The
United Empire Loyalists, it has been well said, " bleeding with
the wounds of seven years of war, left ungathered the crops of
their rich farms on the Mohawk and in New Jersey, and,
stripped of every earthly* possession, braved the terrors of the
unbroken wilderness from the Mohawk to Lake Ontario." In-
habited to-day by the descendants of these pioneers, the old-
fashioned loyalty and conservatism of the Niagara district is
the more conspicuous by contrast with neighboring republican-
ism over the river.

Perhaps as appropriately here as elsewhere may a further
reference bo made to those Pilgrim Fathers of Canada — a body
of as noble and devoted patriots as the world has ever seen — an
ancestry of whom their descendants may well feel proud.

It is somewhat remarkable that one of the most eloquent
vindications of the United Empire Loyalists of Canada is from
the pen of, not only a citizen of the United States, but of a Brevet
Major-General of the State of New York. General DePeyster
has good reason for his enthusiasm for the U. E. Loyalists.
Both of his grandfathers held Royal commissions. Three great
uncles were shot on the battlefield. Many others gallantly
served the King, and for their loyalty to the Empire died in
exile. Though raised to high honour in his native city and
State, he still sympathizes strongly with the old flag and vindi-
cates eloquently the fidelity and valour of the old Loyalists.

The amplest historical treatment of the U. E. Loyalists is
that by the venerable Dr. Ryerson, himself fen illustrious scion
of the goodly stock. Never before have they received such
adequate vindication and such well-founded eulogy. He who
would comprehend in its fulness the heroic story of the Pilgrim
Fathers and founders of Upper Canada, must carefully read
Dr. Ryerson's admirable history of the United Empire Loyalists.

It will suffice here to briefly indicate some of the most
important facts connected with the exile of these heroic people
— an exile without parallel in history — unless it is the expulsion
of the Moriscoes from Spain or of the Huguenots from France
by Louis XIV. The condition of the American colonists who,
during the Revolutionary War, remained faithful to the mother

298

LOYALIST REFUGEES,

country, was one of extreme hardship. They were exposed to
suspicion and insult, and sometimes to wanton outrage and
spoliation. They were denounced by the local Assemblies as
traitors. Many of them were men of wealth, education, talent
and professional ability. But they found their property con-
iiscated, their families ostracised, and often their lives menaced.
The fate of these patriotic men excited the sympathy of the
mother country.

Their zeal for the unity of the Empire won for them the
name of United Empire Loyalists, or, more briefly, U. E.
Loyalists. The British Government made liberal provision for
their domiciliation in the seaboard provinces and Canada. The
close of the war was followed by an exodus of these faithful
men and their families, who, from their loyalty to their King
and the institutions of their fatherland, abandoned their homes
and property, often large estates, to encounter the discomforts
of new settlements, or the perils of the pathless wilderness.
These exiles for conscience' sake came chiefly from Isew
England and the State of New York, but a considerable
number came from the Middle and Southern States of the
Union.

Several thousand settled near Halifax, and on the Bay of
Fundy. They were conveyed in transport ships, and billeted
in churches and private houses till provision could be made for
their settlement on grants of land. Many of them arrived in
wretched plight, and had to be clothed and ikA. by public or
private charity. A still larger number settled near the St.
John and Kennebecasis rivers, in what is now the Province of
New Brunswick, of whose fertile lands they had received
glowing accounts from agents sent to explore the country.

What is now the Province of Ontario, at the close of the
Revolutionary War was almost a wilderness. The entire
European population is said to have been less than two thou-
sand souls. These dwelt chiefly in the vicinity of the fortified
posts on the St. Lawrence, the Niagara and the St Clair rivers.
The population of Lower Canada was, at this time, about one
hundred and twenty thousand. It was proposed by the Home
Government to create, as a refuge for the Loyalist refugees, a

SETTLEMENT OF UPPER CANADA.

299

new colony to tho wc8t of the older settlement!) on the St.
Lawrence, it bein;; deemed best to keep the French and En^^linh
populations separate. For this purpose, surveys were made
along the upper portion of the river, around the beautiful Bay .
of Quinte, on the northern shores of Lake Ontario, and on the
Niagara and St. Clair rivers.

To each U. E. Loyalist was assigned a free grant of two
hundred acres of land, as also to each child, even to those born
after immigration, on their coming of age. The Government,
moreover, assisted with food, clothing and implements, those
loyal exiles who had lost all on their expatriation. Each
settler received an axe, hoe and spade ; a plough and one cow
were allotted to every two families, and a whip-saw and cro.ss-
cut saw to each group of four households. Sets of tools,
portable corn-mills, with .steel plates like coifee-mills, and other
conveniences and necessaries of life were also distributed among
those pioneers of civilization in Upper Canada.

Many disbanded soldiers and militia, and half-pay officers of
English and German regiments, took up land ; and liberal land-
grants were made to immigrants from Great Britain. These
early settlers were for the most part poor, and for the tirst
three years the Government granted rations of food to the
loyal refugees and soldiers. During the year 1784, it is esti-
mated that ten thousand persons were located in Upper Canada.
In course of time not a few immigrants arrived from the
United States. The wilderness soon began to give place to
smiling farms, thriving settlements, and waving fields of grain,
and zealous missionaries threaded the forest in order to admin-
ister to the scattered settlers the rites of religion.

The sons of the U. E. Loyalists should be worthy of those
patriotic sires. They met defeat, but never knew dishonour.
They were the heroes of a lost cause. It was theirs to sing the
sublime " Hymn of the Conquered," and yet to plant in the
virgin soil of this Northern land the germs of a new nation
which shall naintain, let us hope for all time, British laws,
British institutions and British liberty.

Mr. William Kirby, of Niagara, whose stirring poem on the
U. E. Loyalists we quote, writes thus of these brave men :

300

A NOBLE RECORD.

" The exile of the Loyalists from the United States (Judge
Jones says that one hundred thousand left the port of New
York alone) forms one of the grand unwritten chapters of
American history, and one of the noblest. Americans will yet
be more proud of those high-principled exiled Loyalists than of
those who banished them and ungenerously seized their proper-
ties, and confiscated all they had. It will be like writing with
electric light a new, true and grander chapter of American
history than has yet been written. American historians and
compilers have almost always completely ignored or misrepre-
sented the character, numbers and position of the Loyalists in
the Revolution. They will learn that the oldest, purest, and
best breed of the Anglo-American stock is no longer in the
United States, but in Canada, where it was transplanted a
century ago, before the United States became the common
recipient of the overflowings of every European nation. That
old, genuine breed is here now in the fullest vigour of national
life, and as true to the British Crown and Imperial connection
as their loyal fathers were a century ago. When you touch
the loyal United Empire sentiment in the breasts of Canadians
you make their hearts vibrate in its inmost chords."

Mr. Kirby writes with no less fervour in verse than in prose
of these gallant men. The following stirring lines are taken
from his pathetic poem, " The Hungry Year," which describes
a touching episode in the history of the early settlers, reduced
to the utmost straits by drought :

The war was over. Seven red years of blood

Had scourged the land from mountain-top to sea ;

(So long it took to rend the mighty fame

Of England's empire in the western world).

Rebellion won at last ; and they who loved

The cause that had been lost, and kept their faith

To England's crown, and scorned an alien name,

Passed into exile ; leaving all behind

Except their honour, and the conscious pride

Of duty done to country and to King.

Broad lands, ancestral homes, the gathered wealth

Of patient toil and self-denying years

Were confiscate and lost ; for they had been

LOYALIST HEROISM.

301

The anlt and savour of tho land ; trained up
In honour, loyalty, and fear of God —
The wine upon the lees, decanted when
They left their native soil, with sword-holts drawn
The tighter ; while the women only, wept
At thought (if old flresides no longer theirs ;
At household treasures reft, and all tho land
Upset, and ruled by rebels to tho King.

Not drooping like poor fugitives, they came
In exodus to our Canadian wilds ;
But full of heart and hope, with heads erect '
And fearless eye<i, victorious in defeat. —
With thousand toils they forced their devious way
Through the great wilderness of silent woods
That gloomed o'er lake and stream ; till higlier rose
The northern star above the broad domain
Of half a continent, still theirs to hold,
Defend, and keep forever as their own ;
Their own and England's, to the end of time.
The virgin forest, carpeted with leaves
Of many autumns fallen, crisp and sere.
Put on their woodland state ; while overhead
Green seas of foliage roared a welcome home
To the proud exiles, who for Empire fought,
And kept, though losing much, this northern land
A refuge and defence for all who love
The broader freedom of a commonwealth,
Which wears upon its head a kingly crown.

Our great Canadian woods of mighty trees,
Proud oaks and pines, that grew for centuries-
King's gifts upon the exiles were bestowed.
Ten thousand homes were planted ; and each one.
With axe, and fire, and mutual help, made war
Against the wilderness, and smote it down.
Into the open glades, unlit before.
Since forests grew or rivers ran, there leaped
The sun's bright rayb, creative heat and light,
Waking to life the buried seeds that slrjpt
Since Time's beginning, in the earth's dark womb.

.... The world goes rushing by
The ancient landmarks of a nobler time, —
When men bore deep the imprint of the law
Of duty, truth, and loyalty unstained.

302 U. E. LOYALISTS.

Amid the quaking of a continent,

Tom by the passions of an evil time,

They counted neither cost nor danger, spumed

Defections, treasons, spoils ; but feared God,

Nor shamed of their allegiance to the King.

To keep the empire one in unity

And brotherhood of its imperial race, —

For that they nobly fou i^ht and bravely lost,

Where losing was to win a liigher fame 1

In building up our northern land to be

A vast Dominion stretched from sea to sea,—

A land of labour, but of sure reward, —

A land of corn to feed the world withal, —

A land of life's rich treasures, plenty, peace ;

Content and freedom, both to speak and do,

A land of men to rule with sober law

This part of Britain's empire, next to tlie heart,

Loyal as were their fathers and as free !

■

Another accomplished writer of the ancient borough of

Niagara, Miss Janet Carnochan, thus apostrophises those heroic

exiles : „ „ , ,

Tell me then who can,

As chronicles of brave and good ye scan,

A higher, nobler, more unselfish deed,

And more deserving laurel crown and meed ;

To leave broad fields, and fruitful orchards fair,

Or happy, smiling, prosperous homes, and dare

To face wild beasts and still more savage men.

And venture far beyond the white man's ken —

To leave the graves of those they loved so well.

More loved than these perhaps, the sweet church bell,

And all for what ? for an idea ? No —

Ten thousand times we say again — not so ;

The right to say aloud — God save the King,

To British laws, and British homes to cling.

For love of what they deemed good government.

Nor less than these demands will them content ;

To face reproach, abuse, nor weakly yield.

Even when the contest with their blood they sealed,

When specious pleading made the worse appear

The better reason, oft through force or fear.

These are the things that test anvi try men's souls.

And show what leading principle controls.

And not the men alone thus did and dared,

But women fair and young, and old and silvery-haired.

^■i:*. >J>m

FOUNDERS OF EMPIRE.

If, then, they claim the sifting of th' Old Land,

To form the Pilgrim Fathera' chosen band,

We claim the second sifting more severe,

To make the finest of the wheat appear.

Through sore distress, alternate loss and gain,

The unequal contest nobly they maintain

To keep their scil a sacred heritage.

Those heroes all unknown to history's page.

A baptism of fire and tears and blood.

Our country gained and stemmed the swelling flood.

Again was seen as has been seen before.

On many a bloody field in days of yore.

Not always is the battle to the strong,

Nor to the swift must aye the race belong ;

For to the arms though weak of those who fight,

For hearth and home, a freeman's sacred right,

There comes through all that dark and dreadful hour,

An energy before unknown, a sacred power.

The invading foe grows weak and melts away

As snow, before the sunny smiles of May.

While Puritan and Pilgrim loud they [.-raise.

And Loyalists are lauded in our days.

Shall not the Pioneers who crossed the foam.

And left th' Old World to hew them out a heme.

Where all was new, and strange, and wild, and rude.

Who struggled on, with courage unsubdued.

Where hardihood and honest toil combine

Shall wo forget a generous wreath to twine ?

We boast of freedom real — to Black and Red,

Nor foot of serf our sacred soil may tread.

That long 'ere Britain's dusky slaves were free,

While Wilberforce was battling generously.

Ere Southern neighbours dreamt the slave a man,

And not a chattel, under bonds and ban :

Our legislators 'neath fair Newark's trees,

Declared our slaves were free or» land or seas.

Our treaties with the red man in his need,

Have all been straitly kept in word and deed.

And still they show with pardonable pride,

The silver service by Queen Anne supplied.

The medals handed down from sire to son

Which tell of treaties made or battles won.

For years our statesmen nobly sought to gain
The rights their sons enjoy and now maintain.
Nor England nor Columbia's power so great

303

804 (/. £. LOYALISTS.

Freedom to give to all in Church and State,
A hard and bitter battle long they fought,
Nor was our sires' unselfish toil for nought.

Space will not permit the complete quotation of a noble poem
on the U. E. Loyalists by the Rev. LeRoy Hooker. A few lines
only can be given :

Dear were the homes where they were bom;

Where slept their honoured dead ;
And rich and wide
On every side

The fruitful acres spread
But dearer to their faithful hearts.

Than home or gold or lands,
Were Britain's laws, and Britain's crown,
And Britain's flag of long renown.

And grip of British hands.

With high resolve they looked their last
On home and native land ;
And sore they wept
O'er those that slept
In honoured gravts that must be kept
By grace of stranger's hand.

They looked their last and got them out
Into the wilderness.
The stem old wilderness !
All dark and rude
And unsubdued ;
The savage wilderness !
Where wild beasts howled
And Indian" prowled •
The lonely wilderness !
Where social joys must be forgot.
And budding childhood grow untaught ;
Where hopeless hunger might assail
Should autumn's promised fruitage fail ;
Where sickness, unrestrained by skill.
Might slny theii" dear ones at its will ;
Where they must Jay
Their dead away
Without the man of God to say
The sad sweet words, how dear to men,
Of resurrection hope. But then
'Twas British wilderness !

HEROIC EXILES.

Where they might sing,

"Godsav^the King!"
And live protected by his laws,
And loyally uphold his c^uHe.

'Twas welcome wilderness !
Though dark and rude
And unsubdued ;
Though wild beksts howled
And Indians prowled ;
For there their sturdy hands,
By hated treason undefiled.
Might win from the Canadian wild,
A home on British lands.

These be thy heroes, Canada !

These men of proof, whose test
Was in the fevered pulse of strife
When foeman thrusts at foemaa's life ;

And in that stern behest
When right must toil for scanty bread
While wrong on sumptuous fare is fed,

And men must choose between ;
When right must shelter 'ueath the skies
While wrong in lordly mansion lies,

And men must choose between ;
When right is cursed and crucified
While wrong is cheered and glorified.

And men must choose between.

Stern was the test,

And soroly pressed,
That proved their blood best of the best.
And when for Canada you pray.

Implore kind heaven

That, like a leaven.
The hero-blood which then was given
May quicken in her veins alway ; —
That from those worthy sires may spring,

In number as tlie stars,
Strong-hearted sons, whose glorying

Shall be in Bight,

Though recreant Might
Be strong against her in the fight,

And many be her scars
So, like the aun, her honoured name
Shall shine to latest years the same.

305

f^i^mmimimmmmmim

3tf6

FORT NIAGARA.

We return novf to a description of this historic frontier At
the mouth of the river on the American side is Fort Niagara,
whose ramparts command a sweeping view of Lake Ontario.
The history of Fjrt Niagara, knit up as it is with all
America's paat, from before the time when the French king,
dallying with his favourites, thought this region valuable only
for furs, down to the imprisonment of Morgan, in 1828, in the
low magazine near the river bank, yet remains to be written.
During a long period it was a little city in itself, and the most
important point west of Albany or south of Montreal. In the

>3f ^ V'. ^«

Besidknce of W. H. Howland, Niaoaba Assembly.

centre of the enclosure stood a cross eighteen feet high, with
the inscription : " Regnat, vincit, imperat, Ghristtts," and over
the chapel was a large ancient dial to mark the course of the
sun. La Salle traced the outlines of the fortress, from whose
lofty flag-staff now floats the emblem of the United States, but
which, alternately owned by French and English, witnessed
some of the most hard-fought engagements in their strife for
mastery in the New World.

South of Niagara is an oakwood, " Paradise Grove," long a
favorite picnic resort ; upon an open heath stand, " outlawed,
lonely, and apart," a picturesque clump of thorn-trees. One of

SPINA CHRISTL

307

the best known writers of the Dominion, and author of that
powerful historical romance The Ghien d'Or, Mr. William Kirby,
a resident of Niagara, traces the planting of these trees, brought
originally from Palestine to Avigiion — descendants, it is averred
of the true Spina Ghristi — as far back as to the period of the
French occupation of Fort Niagara. In one of his series of
Canadian idylls the poet beautifully relates how under the
oldest of these French thorns, " in the grave made wide enough
for two," sleep a once gay cavalier of Roussillon, and a fair

"Sunny Bcnk"— Summer Cottage, Niagara Assembly.

<3ame of Quebec, whose bright eyes caused him to forget his
chatelaine in Avignon.

" O ! fair in summer time it is, Niagara plain to see
Half belted round with oaken woods and green as grass can be !
Its levels broad in sunshine lie, with flowerets gemmed and set,
With daisy stars, and red as Mars
The tiny sanguinet ;

The trefoil with its drops of gold— white clover heads, and yet
The sweet grass, commonest of all God's goodnesses, we get !
The dent de lion's downy globes a puff will blow away,
Which children pluck to try good luck,
Or tell the time of day.

I '!

308 NIAGARA ASSEMBLY.

" Count Bois le Grand sought out a spot of loveliness, was full
Of sandwort's silvered leaf and stem — with down of fairy wool,
Hard by the sheltering grove of oak he set the holy thorn
Where still it grows, and ever shows
How sharp the crown of scorn

Christ wore for man, reminding him what pain for sin was borne.
And warning him he must repent before his sheaf is shorn,
When comes the reaper Death, and his last hour of life is scored.
Of all bereft, and only left
The mercy of the Lord. "

Lansdownb Villa, Niaoaba Assembly.

A new enterprise of a somewhat comprehensive character
gives promise of restoring to the old town a large degree of
its former prosperity. A Canadian branch of the famous
Chautauqua Assembly has established here a local habitation.
A hundred acres of land on the lake shore, a little west of the
town, has been purchased and laid out as a beautiful summer
resort, under religious and educational auspices. A first-class
hotc^ and a number of elegant cottages have been erected, and
an i nphitheatre capable of accommodating an audience of
4,0('0 has been constructed. This place is designed to be a
rallying place for Canadian Chautauquans, and to furnish an
annual programme of high-class lectures and artistic and musical

A CANADIAN CHAUTAUQUA.

309

entertainments by some of the ablest talent on the continent.
Special prominence is given to Sunday-school, I^ormal class
work, and Chautauqua work. Bishop Vincent, the originator
of the now world-wide Chautauqua movement, successfully
inaugurated this Canadian Assembly in 1887. An able corps
of workers makes the summer Assembly an occasion of great
pleasure and mental profit.

The design is to furnish a pleasant summer home, surrounded
by religious safeguards and under highly educative and moral

View from Qpeenston Heights.

of
us
n.
le
er
ss
id
of
a
m
al

influences. The success which has already attended the enter-
prise is an indication that it meets a want that is felt by a large
portion of the community.

This Assembly enjoys unusual advantages of access, being
situated on the through line of travel with the fine steel
steamers Cibola and Chicora daily from Toronto, and with
direct connections for all parts of the east and west by the
great Michigan Central Railway system.

The sail up the broad and rapid river, seven miles to Queens-
ton or Lewiston, is one of surpassing beauty, and the whole
resfion is rife with historic memories. To the rijjht rises the

Brock's Monument.
The tnMll monument in the foreground »how» the «pot where Brock fell.

QUEENS TON HEIGHTS.

311

steep escarpment of Queenston Heights, in storming which, on
the fatal night of October, 1812, fell the gallant Brock. A
noble monument perpetuates his memory. From its base is
obtained a magurficent 'iew of the winding river — the fertile
plain and the broad, brae Ontario in the distance.

Every step of the way between Niagara and Queenston— so
named in honour of Queen Charlotte— is historic ground. But

a few short hours, after leading

his hastily summoned militia up

Queenston Heights, with a cry,

"Push on, York Volunteers!" Sir

Isaac Brock again

passed over this road,

when his body, with

Below the

Cantilever Bkidoe.

mmK'^

^^^^M^^

\mfmm^^^^

that of his brave aide-de

camp, was brought back, the

enemy's minute-guns all along the opposite river-bank firing

a salute of respect.

From the summit of Brock's Monument — a Roman column
exceeded in height only by that Sir Christopher Wren erected
in London to commemorate the great fire — is obtained a grand
view of the river. Here we see not only the Whirlpool and
the spray of the Cataract, but all the near towns, with a
distant glimpse of the historic field of Lundy's Lane. Broad
smiling farms, and peach and apple orchards, stretch away

312

THE CANTlLEVEli BRIDGE.

into the distance, and adorn every headland on either side.
The fall-tided river rolls on in might and majesty, and pours its
flood into the blue unsalted sea, Ontario, which, studded with
many a sail, forms the long hori^son. Few lands on earth can
exhibit a scene more fertile or more fair, or one associated with
grander memories of patriotism and valour.

Four miles farther up, the river is spanned by two of the
most wonderful bridges in the world — the light and airy Sus-
pension Bridge, erected in 1855, and the new Cantilever Bridge,

Cantilever Bridge — Building Pier.

erected in 1883 by the Michigan Central Railway. The latter is
of sufficient interest to call for a somewhat detailed description.
The location of the bridge, a short distance below the • Falls
of Niagara, precludes the possibility of any supports in the
centre of the stream, which at this point is five hundred feet
from shore to shore at the water's edge. The design is what is
known as the cantilever bridge, the principle of which is that
of a trussed beam, supported at or near its centre, with the
arms extended each way and one end anchored or counter-
weighted to provide for unequal loading. It was in practice

ti
is

314

THE CANTILEVER BRIDGE.

entirely novel, no other bridge having then been completed
upon this principle.

Each end is made up of a section, entirely of steel, extending
from the shore nearly half way over the chasm. Each section
is supported near its centre by a strong steel tower, from which
extend two lever arms, one reaching the rocky bluffs, the other
extending over the river 175 feet beyond the towers. The
towers on either side rise from the water's edge; between them
a clear span of 49.5 feet over the river, the longest double-track

(«w-

■H^W-f

/ , J

un III It [^iri wn

'V^,.-.>^^

S.^ii^^lS^J'

..^M6rf^«'''

BuiLDiNQ Cantilevek Buiugk, VVestern Pier.

truss-span in the world. The ends of the cantilevers reach
on each side 395 feet from the abutments, leaving a ;^iip of
120 feet filled by an ordinary truss bridge hung from the ends
of the cantilevers. There are no guys for this purpose, as in a
suspension bridge, but the structure is complete within itself.
The total length of the bridge is 910 feet. It has a double
track, and is strong enough to carry upon each track at the
same time the heaviest freight train, extending the entire
length of the bridge. From the tower foundations up the

MODE OF CONSTRUCTION.

315

whole bridge is .steel, every inch of which was subjected to the
most rigid tests from the time it left the ore to the time it
entered the Htructure.

The structure has very much the appearance of an ordinary
truss bridge, but in view of the conditions and surroundings,
very different in the manner of its erection. The difficult
portion of the work was to span the 495 feet across and 239
feet above a roaring river whose force no earthly power can
stay. No temporary structure could survive a moment, and

BuiLOiNa Cantilever Bridge, Eastern Pier.

here the skill of the engineer came in to control the powers of
nature. The design of the cantilever is such that after the
shore arm was completed and anchored the river arm was built
out, one panel or section at a time, by means of great travelling
derricks, and self-sustaining as it progressed. After one panel
of twenty-five feet was built and had its bracing adjusted the
derrick was moved forward and another panel erected. Thus
the work progressed, section by section, until the ends of the
cantilever were reached, when a truss bridge was swung across

316

THE CANTILEVER BRIDGE.

the gap of 120 feet, resting on the ends of the cantilever arms,
thus forming the connecting link. In less than seven months,
December 1st, 1883, the bridge was completed. It was rigor-
ously tested on the 20th of December, and under the tremendous
weight of eighteen locomotives and twenty-four heavily loaded
gravel cars, showed a temporary deflection of but six inches,
proving to be a grand and perfect success.

Bridges on the cantilever principle are now becoming quite

Cantilever Bru.^je — Constrcctino Overhang.

common. Another fine example in Canada is that over the
Kivcr St. John at its mouth, and another is that over the Fraser
River, on the Canadian Pacitic Railway. The most notable in
the world for length and strength is that over the River Forth,
in Scotland.

Proceeding southward from these remarkable bridges we soon
reach the stupendous Falls, whose deep eternal roar is heard
long before the ever-rising column of spray comes into view.

ANTHONY TROLLOPE ON THE FALLS.

THE FALLS OF NIAGARA.

"Of all the sights on this earth of ours which tourists travel
to see," says Anthony TroUope, "I am inclined to give the palm
to the Falls of Niagara. 1 know no other one thing so beau-
tiful, so glorious, and so powerful. At Niagara there is the fall
of waters alone. But that fall is more graceful than Giotto's

Below the Amekicak Falls.

tower, more noble than the Apollo. The pe^ks of the Alps
are not so astounding in their solitude. The valleys of the
Blue Mountains in Jamaica are less green ; and the full tide of
trade round the Bank of England is not so inexorably' powerful.
"All the waters of the huge northern inland seas run over that
breach in the rocky bottom of the stream ; and thence it comes
that the flow is unceasing in its grandeur, and that no eye can
perceive a difference in the weight, or sound, or violence of the

318

THE FALLS OF NIAGARA.

fall, whether it be visited in the drought of autumn, amidst the
storms of winter, or after the melting of the upper worlds of
ice in the days of the early summer. At Niagara the waters
never fail. There it thunders over its ledge in a volume that

•

NiAOABA Falls by Moonlight.

never ceases, and is never diminished — as it has dore from time
previous to the life of man, and as it will do till tens of thou-
sands of years shall see the rocky bed of the river worn away,
back to the upper lake.

"Up above the Falls, for more than a mile, the waters leap

^::»

THEIR EXHAUSTLESS SUPPLY.

319

and burst over rapids, as though conscious of the destiny that
awaits them. The waters, though so broken in their descent,
are dtliciously green. This colour as seen early in the morning,
or just as the sun has set, \u so bright as to give to the place
one of its chief charms. This will be best seen from the
further end of Goat Island.

" But we will go at once on to the glory, and the thunder,
and the majesty, and the wrath of the upper fall of waters.
We are still, let the reader remember, on Goat Island. From
hence, across to the Canadian side, the cataract continues itself

in OiK. i- iC'.lated line. But the line is very far from being
direct or >;■:!•!• "^tht. After stretching for some little way from
the shore, to a point in the river which is reached by a wooden
bridge, at the end of which stood a tower upoi> the rock — after
stretching to this, the line of the ledge bends irwarf's against
the flood — in, and in, and in, till one is led to think that the
depth of that horse-shoe is immeasurable. Go down to the end
of that wooden bridge, seat yourself on the rail, and there sit
tii- i.il the outer world is lost to you. There is no grander
sp^'i' -^lo'.t JSIiagara than this. The waters are absolutely
around you. You will see nothing but the water. You will
certainly hear nothing else; and the sound, I beg you to

320

THE HORSE-SHOE.

remember, is not an ear-cracking, agonizing crash and clang of
noises, but is melodious, and soft withal, though loud as thunder;
it fills your ears, and, as it were, envelops you, but at the
same time you can speak to your neighbour without an effort.
But at this place, and in these moments, the less of speaking, I
should say the better.

"It is glorious to watch the waters in their first curve over the

rocks. They come
green as a bank of
emeralds, but with
'of ul flying colour,
. though conscious
that in one moment
more they would be
dashed into spray
and rise into air,
pale as driven snow.
Your eves rest full
upon the curve of
the waters. The
shape you are look-
ing at is that of a
horse-shoe,
but of one
miraculous-
deep from
toe to heel ;
this depth
becoming
greater as
you sit and
look at it.
That which
at first was only beautiful becomes gigantic and sublime, till
the mind is at a loss to find an epithet for its own use.

" And now we will cross the water. As we do so, let me say
that one of the great charms of Niagara consists in this, that,
over and above that one great object of wonder and beauty.

Fekry Landing, Canadian Side.

322

BENE AT// THE FALLS.

there is so much little loveliness; loveliness, especially of water,
I mean. Thsre are little rivulets running here and there over
little falls, with pendent boughs above them, and stones shining
under their shallow depths. As the visitor stands and looks
through the trees, the rapids glitter before him, and then hide
themselves behind islands. They glitter and sparkle in far
distances under the bright foliage till the remembrance is lost>
and one knows not which way they run."

Father Uennkfin's Sketch of Niaoaba Falls xs 1674.

BENEATH THE FALLS.

If any jaded sight-seer wishes to enjoy a new sensation, I
would advise him to make the descent into the " Cave of the
Winds " on the American side. It was one of the most exciting
adventures the present writer ever experienced. Having, duly
feed the attendant, one is shown into a dressing-room, where he
couipletely divests himself of his clothing, and assumes a flannel
bathing-suit. No oil-cloth or india-rubber covering will answer
here — one becomes as wet as a fish in his native home. One

"CAVE OF THE WINDS."

323

puts his watch and mo!iey in a tin box, which he locks and
fastens the key to his girdle. A straw hat is tied firmly on the
head, and felt sandals on the feet, the latter to prevent slipping
on the rocks or wooden steps.

Now, accompanied by a sturdy guide, we go down a winding
stair, from whose loop-holes we catch glimpses of the cliff rising
higher and higher as we descend. We are soon at the foot of
the stairway, and follow a beaten path over the broken dehAs
which, during immemorial ages, has formed a rocky ledge at the
base of the cliff. We at length reach the grand portal of the
" Cave of the Winds." It is a mighty arch, nearly a hundred

NiAQAEA RiVEE, BELOW THE FaLLS, FROM THE CANADIAN SiDB.

and fifty feet high — one side formed of overhanging cliff, and
the other of the majestic sweep of the fall. The latter seems
like a solid wall of water many feet thick, glossy green at the
top, but so shattered and torn near the bottom that it is a snowy
v<rhite. Beneath this portal we pass. A long, steep stairway,
covered with a green confervoid growth, leads down into a dim
abyss of spray and deafening noise. Now the benefit of the
sandals is felt; without them we would assuredly slip and
fall. Firmly clinging to the arm of the guide, we go down, it
seems almost into the heart of the earth. Great fragments of
the seething cataract — not mere drops, but what seem to be solid
chunks of water, rent from the main body — are hurled down.

324

BENEATH THE FALLS.

with catapult-like violence, upon our heads. The air is filled
with blinding spray. It drives into our eyes, our ears, and our
mouth, if we open it. A deep, thunderous roar shakes the solid
rock, and upward gusts of wind almost lift one from his feet.
A dim liirht strunfcfles through the translucent veil. All com-
munication is by pantomime — no voice could by any possibility
be heard — and often the guide has almost to carry his charge
through this seething abyss.
Pressing on, we cross galleries fastened to the face of the cliff.

The Hobse-Shoe Fall— from Below.

and bridges springing from rock to rock; and climbing over
huge boulders, gradually emerge again to the light of day. And
what a scene bursts on the view ! We have passed completely
behind the falling sheet — not the main fall, of course, but the
one between Goat and r ana Islands. We are right at the foot
of the cataract, enveloped in its skirt, as it were, and drenched
by its spray. Clambering out on the rocks, we can pass directly
in front of it. When the gusts of wind sweep the spray aside,
we get dazzling views of the whole height of the snowy fall,
poured, as it were, out of the deep blue sky above our head.
Only the glowing language of Ruskin can depict the scene. We

RUSfCJN ON THE FALLS.

325

can " watch how the vault of water first bends unbroken in pure

polished velocity over the arching rocks at the brow of the

cataract, covering ,

them with a dome of J.&i'^^^f^'^

crystal twenty feet

thick — so swift that

its motion is unseen,

except when a foam

globe from above

darts over it like a

falling star; and

how, ever and anon,

a jet of spray leaps

hissing out of the

fall like a rocket,

bursting in the wind,

and driven away in

dust, filling the air

with light ; whilst

the shuddering iris

stoops in tremulous stillness over all, fading and flushing

alternately through the
choking spray and shat-
tered sunshine.

"Still do these waters
roll, and leap, and roar,
and tumble all day long;
still are rainbows span-
ning them a hundred
feet below. Still, when
the sun is on them, do
they shine and glow like
molten gold. Still, when
the day is gloomy, do
they fall like snow, or
seem to crumble away
like the front of a great

chalk cliff, or roll down the rock like dense white smoke. But

Bridqb to Luna Island.

The Cataract above Ooat Island.

326

RUS/C/N ON THE FALLS.

always does the mighty stream appear to die as it comes aown,
and always from the unfathomable grave arises that tremendous
ghost of spray and mist which is never laid, which has haunted
this place with the same dread solemnity since darkness brooded
on the daep, and that first flood before the deluge — Light — came
rushing on creation at the Word of Qod.

" Stable in its perpetual instability ; changeless in its ever-
lasting change; a thing to be 'pondered in the heart' like the
revelation to the meek Virgin of old : with no pride in the bril-
liant hues that are woven in its

^^-':i.^^--'.^i.ii^i.^:-^,.:-^^/:i::;w^. eternal loom: with no haste in

the majestic roll of its waters :
with no weariness in its endless
psalm — it remains through the
eventful years an embodiment
of unconscious power, a liv-
ing inspiration of thought, and
poetry, and worship — a mag-
nificent apocalypse of God."

Unable to tear myself away,
I let the guide proceed with
the rest of the party, and lin-
gered for hours entranced with
the scene. I paid for my
enthusiasm, however, for I
became so stiff from prolonged
saturation in the water that I had to remain in bed all next day.
Scarcely inferior in interest to the falls are the rapids above,
as seen from Street's Mill, on the Canadian shore, or from the
bridge to Goat Island or the Three Sisters. The resistless sweep
of the current, racing like a maddened steed toward destruction,
affects one almost as if it were a living thing. This is still more
striking as we stand on the giddy verge where rose, like a lone
sentinel, the Terrapin Tower. For a moment the waters seem
to pause and shudder before they make the fatal plunge.

Unquestionably the grandest view is that of the Horse-shoe
Falls, either from the remains of Table Rock or from the
foot of the fall. Here the volume of water is greatest, and the

From Goat Island.

DR. DEWART ON THE FALLS.

327

vast curve of the Horse-shoe makes the waters converge into
one seething abyss, from which ascends evermore the cloud of
spray and mist — like the visible spirit of the fall.

The following fine lines by Dr. Dewart describe not inade-
quately the deep emotions that thrill the soul in the presence of
this sublime vision :

" While standing on this rocky ledge, above
The vast abyss, which yawns beneath my feet,
In silent awe and rapture, face to face
With this bright vision of unearthly glory,
Whicli dwarfs all human pageantry and power,
This spot to me is Nature's holiest temple.
The sordid cares, the jarring strifes, and vain
Delights of earth are stilled. The hopes and joys
That gladden selfish hearts, seem nothing here.

•' The massy rocks that sternly tower aloft,
And stem the fury of the wrathful tide —
The impetuous leap of the resistless flood,
An avalanche of foaming, curbless rage —
The silent hills, God's tireless sentinels^
The wild and wond'rous beauty of thy face.
Which foam and spray forever shroud, as if
Like thy Creator, God, thy glorious face
No mortal eye may see unveiled and live-
Are earthly signatures of power divine.
O ! what are grandest works of mortal art,
Column, or arch, or vast cathedral dome.
To these majestic footprints of our Godl

" Unique in majesty and radiant might,
Earth has no emblems to portray thy splendour.
Not loftiest lay of earth-born bard could sing
All that thy grandeur whispers to the heart
That feels thy power. No words of mortal lipa
Can fitly speak the wonder, reverence, joy —
The wild imaginings, thrilling and rare,
Which now, like spirits from some higher sphere,
For whom no earthly tongue has name or type.
Sweep through my soul in waves of surging thought.
My reason wrestles with a vague desire
To plunge into thy boiling foam, and blend
My being with thy wild sublimity.

^^^^^

328

J)R. DEIVART ON THE FALLS.

As thy majestic beauty Bubliinatet
My Boul, I am ennobled while 1 gaze-
Warm tears of pensive joy gush from my eyes,
And grateful praise and worship silent swell,
Unbidden, from my thrilled and ravished breast;
Henceforth this beauteous vision shall be mine—
Daguerreotyped forever on my heart.
Stupendous power ! thy thunder's solonm hymn
Whose tones rebuke the shallow unbeliefs
Of men, is still immutably the same.
Ages ere mortal eyes beheld thy glory
Thy waves made music for the listening stars,
And angels paused in wonder as they passed,
To gaze upon thy weird and awful beauty,
Amazed to see such grandeur this side heaven.
Thousands, who once have here enraptured stood,
Forgotten, lie in death's long pulseless sleep ;
And when each beating heart on earth is stilled.
Thy tide shall roll, unchanged by flight of years,
Bright with the beauty of eternal youth.

** Thy face, half veiled in rainbows, mist and foam,
Awakens thoughts of all the beautiful
And ^rand of earth, which stand through time and change
As witnesses A God's omnipotence.
The misty mountain, stern in regal pride.
The birth-place of the avalanche of death —
The grand old forests, through whose solemn aisles
The wintry winds their mournful requiems chant—
The mighty rivers rushing to the sea —
The thunder's peal — the lightning's awful glare —
The deep, wide sea, whose melancholy dirge
From age to age yields melody divine —
The star-lit heavens, magnificent and vast.
Where suns and worlds in quenchless splendour blaze
All terrible and beauteous things create
Are linked in holy brotherhood with thee.
And speak in tones above the din of earth
Of Him unseen, whose word created all."

•

WINTER ASPECTS.

320

NIAOAUA FALLS IN WINTER.

It was on a bright sunny day in January that I had my first
winter view of the Falls of Niagara. I had often seen them
before, gleaming like a sapphire in the emerald setting of the
spring, or relieved by the rich luxuriance of the leafy summer
tide. I had beheld their beauty crowned with the golden glory
of the autumn, each peak and crag and islet flaming like an
altar-pyre with the brilliant foliage of the trees, more beautiful
in death than in life, varicoloured as the iris that spanned the
falling flood. I had seen them flashing snowy white in the fervid

Thk American Fall— from the Canadian Side.

light of noon; glowing rosy red when the descending sun, like
the Hebrew, smote the waters and turned them into blood;
glancing; in silvery sheen in the moon's mild light, and gleaming
spectral and ghastly, like a sheeted ghost, in the moonless mid-
night. But, as seen with their winter bravery on, richly robed
with ermine, tiaraed with their crystal crown, and bediamonded
with millions of flashing gems, the view seemed the fairest and
most beautiful of all.

Niagara has as many varying moods and graces as a lovely
woman, and ever the aspect in which we see her seemeth be.st.
Hence, we always approach with new zest, and study her

330

THE FALLS IN WINTER.

separate beauties with fresh enjoyment. She does not reveal
her true sublimity, nor impart the secret of her witchery at
once, but only on prolonged acquaintance. There is a majestic
reticence about nature in this theatre of her most wonderful
maaifeotiitions. There is, someti/ines, even a feeling of disap-
pointment at first sight. This is owing to the vast sweep of
the falls, over half a mile in breadth, which diminishes their

Thk American Fall.

apparent height. It *>s only when we have constructed a scale
of comparati^'ri admeasurement, and especially v.'hen we have
descended the cliff over which the mighty river hurls itself,
and, standing close to its foot, look up and see the hoary front
of the vast flood falling out of the very sky, as it seems,

" Poured from the hollow of God's hand,"
that an adequate sense of its immensity bursts upon us. Then

ICY CLIFFS.

331

its spell of power asserts itself, and takes possession of our souls.
Being shod with a pair of sharp iron " creepers" to prevent
slipping on the icy crags, I descended the successive flights of
steps in the face of the cliff, which lead down to the foot of the
Canadian Fall. These steps, constantly drenched with spray,
were thickly encrusted with ice, as was also the surface of the
rock, which flashed like silver in the sun. A couple of Negroes,

Old Teruavin Towkb.

however, were cutting footholds in the slippery vathway ; so
that there was no difficulty in making the descent. Every tree
and bush and spray, the dead mullein-stalks by the path, the
trailing arbutus hanging from the cliff, the leafless maples and
beeches cresting its height, were all encased in icy mail. Through
the crystal armour could be distinctly traced the outline of the
imprisoned Dryad, bowed to earth by the often fatal weight of
splendour which she bore. Like the diamond forest of the

332

CRYSTAL STALACTITES.

Arabian tale, the grove above the Falls flashed and glittered in
the sunlight, an object of incomparable beauty.

The rocky wall towered far overhead, and overhung the path-
way many feet, creating a feeling of undefinable dread. Indeed,
the vast overhanging ledge, part of Table Rock, fell with a horrid
crash, in 1863; and other portions have since been removed by
the Government engineers — one mass of two thousand tons in a
single blast. Amid the debris and giant fragments of these
Titanic rocks, now covered many feet deep beneath mounds of
ice, and fringed with icicles, looking like stranded icebergs in
an Arctic sea, ran the pathway to the edge of the great Fall.

The Bridob leading to Bath and Qoat Islands.

The overarching rock was thickly hung with thousands of
glittering pendants, where the water percolated through the
strata, or fell over the . cliff". Nearer the Fall, these became
larger and longer, till, meeting the icy stalagmites rising from
the ground, they formed crystal columns, often several feet in
diameter, sometimes having the appearance of a pillared colon-
nade. The ice is generally translucent or of a pearly white,
but is sometimes stained with a yellowish tinge by the impuri-
ties of the soil. These stalagmitic formations assume the most
grotesque and varied forms. One I observed which strongly
resembled a huge organ, the burnished pipes shining in the sun.

ICE STATUARY.

333

while posterior rows of icy columns completed the internal
analogy. Others were strikingly suggestive of marble statuary.
One recalled the beautiful figure of Bailey's " Eve," but as if
covered with a snowy mantle, half concealing and half revealing
the form. In others a slight exercise of the fancy could recog-
nize veiled vestals and naiads of the stream, with bowed-down
heads, in attitudes of meditation or of grief. Here a " lovely
Sabrina " was rising from the wave ; there a weeping Niobe,

Bird's Eye View of the Falls — from Canadian Side.

smitten into stone, in speechless sorrow mourned her children's
hapless fate. Here writhed Laocoon in agonies of torture ;
there Lot's wife, in attitude of flight, yet in fatal fascination,
looking back, was congealed in death forever.

Other ice-formations were arched like a diamond grotto, built
by frost-fairies in the night, begemmed with glittering topaz,
beryl, and amethyst, and fretted with arabesque device, more
lovely, a thousandfold, than the most exquisite handiwork of
man.

334

THE CAVE OF THUNDERS.

li '

As we approach the edge of the great Horse-shoe Fall, the
ice-mounds become more massive, the path more rugged, and
gusts of icy spray forbid further progress. We stand before a

Beneath the Canadian Falls.

mighty arch, forty feet in width, and one hundred and fifty feet
high, one side composed of the overhanging cliff, the other of the
unbroken sheet of falling water. It is well named the Cave of

AN ICE BRIDGE.

335

Thunders. The deafening roar fills the shuddering air like an
all-pervading presence, and shakes the solid rock. With its
voice of many waters, Niagara chants its mighty and eternal
psalm, deep to deep loud calling.

Great quantities of ice, of course, are carried down the river,
from Lake Erie, and go over the Falls. I saw several huge
cakes thus descend. So great is the height that they seem to
fall quite slowly,
and at first to hang
almost poised in air.
When the river be-
low is running full
of ice, sometimes a
"jam" occurs at the
narrowest part; and
when intensely cold
it speedily "takes,"
or becomes firmly
frozen. Sometimes,
however, -several
winters pass with-
out the formation
of an ice-bridge.
When it does occur,
as was the case the
winter of my visit,
the accumulation of
ice fills up the river
to near the Falls,
where the strength
of the current forces the floating ice under and over the pre-
viously formed barrier, till the latter attains a thickness, it is
said, of as much as a hundred feet. The ice is piled up in huge
dykes, ridges, inounds and barriers, in the wildest confusion.
Where a " shove " has taken place, a long, smooth wall remains
on the side next the shore. Where a "jam " has happened, a
long ridge or towering mound of fractured ice, sometimes great
tables tilted up at all angles, is formed. Frequently deep

Icicles and Stalagmites— below the Falls.

336

FROST FOLIAGE.

crevasses or radiating cracks are formed by the upward pres-
sure of the ice forced underneath the great sheet. The appear-
ance of the surface is like that of a stormy sea suddenly con-
gealed at the moment of its wildest rage.

It was very hard work clambering over the rugged ice-blocks,

Winter Foliage, Goat Island.

sometimes disappearing from the sight of a less courageous
friend who watched me from the shore, as a boat disappears in
the trough of the sea ; but the view from the middle of the
river well repaid the trouble. In front stretched the whole
sweep of the Horse-shoe Fall, whose mighty flood is so deep
where it pours over the precipice, that it retains its glassy
greenness for some distance down the abyss. Nearer at hand.

A SEA OF ICE.

;i37

to the left, was the American Fall, of greater height, but of
vastly less volume. The glistening sheen of its sun-illumined
front, broken immediately to dazzling spray, recalled the in-
spired description of those glorious garments, "exceeding white as
snow ; so as no fuller on earth can white them." Almost directly
overhead, that wire-spun, gauze-like structure, the new suspen-

NlAOARA IN WiNTBB.

sion bridge, one thousand two hundred and sixty-eight feet long,
seemed almost to float in air at the dizzy height of tv / hundred
and fifty feet above the seething flood. Below stretched the
gloomy gorge through which rushes the rapid torrent, betraying
its resistless energy in the foam-wreaths forming on its chafing

tide, like

"The speechless wrath which rises and subsides
22 In the white lip and tremor of the face."

338

THE SUSPENSION BRIDGE.

At its narrowest part, two miles below the Falls, it is spanned
by the fairy-like railway suspension bridge — a life-artery along

SB
O

X
H

which throbs a ceaseless pulse of commerce between the Do-
minion of Canada and the United States of America — the two
fairest and noblest daughters of grand Old England, the great

A PLEDGE OF AMITY.

339

mother of nations. Unhappily, a deep and gloomy chasm has
too long yawned between these neighbouring peoples, through
which has raged a brawling torrent of estrangement, bitterness
and sometimes even of fratricidal strife. But, as wire by wire
that wondrous bridge was woven between the two countries, so
social, religious and commercial intercourse has been weaving
subtle cords of fellowship between the adjacent communities ;
and now, let us hope, by the historic Treaty of Washington, a
golden bridge of amity and peace has spanned the gulf, and
made them one in brotherhood forever. As treason against

The Whirlpool, Niagara Rivkr.

humanity is that spirit to be deprecated that would sever one
strand of those ties of friendship, or stir up strife between the
two great nations of one blood, one faith, one tongue ! May this
peaceful arbitration be the inauguration of the happy era fore-
told by poet and seer —

" When the war-drum throbs no longer, and the battle-flags are furled
In the Parliament of man, the Federation of the world ! "

While I was musing on this theme, the following fancies wove
themselves into verse, in whose aspiration all true patriots of
either land will, doubtless, devoutly join :

340

THE WHIRLPOOL

As tho great bridge which spans Niagara's flcmcl
Was deftly woven, subtle strand by strand,
Into a strong and stable iron band.
Which heaviuat stress and strain has long withstood ;
So the bright golden strands of friendship strong,
Knitting the Mother and the Daughter land
In bontls of love — as grasp of kindly hand
May bind together hearts estranged long-
Is deftly woven now, in that firm gage

Of mutual plight and troth, which, lot us pray,
May still endure unshamed from age to age —

The pledge of peace and concord true alway:
Perish the hand and palsied be the arm
That would one fibre of that fabric harm !

One striking phase of the Niagara River is often overlooked —

the Whirlpool, three miles
below the Falls. Its wild
f j and lonely grandeur is won-
derfully impressive. The
river here turns abruptly to
the right, forming an elbow,
and as the waters rush up
against the opposite banks,
a whirlpool is formed, on
which log.s, and even human
bodies, have been known to
float many days. Tlie river
in the centre is estimated by
scientific experts to be eleven
feet and a half higher than
on each shore.

Through the Whirlpool
Rapids the tortured river
chafes and frets between thn rocky cliffs, like a huge giant
tugging at his chains, till at last it glides out in a broad and
placid stream at Qneenston Heights, crowned to the left with
the lofty monument ot Canada's favourite hero, Major-General
Sir Isaac Brock.

The WniRLrooL Rapids.

RUXN/XG THE RAPIDS.

341

Throu<,'h this torritic },'orge the little steamer, Maid of the
Mid, in order to escape legal seizure, run the gauntlet of the
bufi'eting waves. She was well-nigh knocked to pieces, but got

•/.

safely through. Several foolhardy men have atteniped to run
these fearful rapids in barrel-shaped boats, and more than one
has paid the penalty of his temerity with his life.

342

FRUIT GROWING.

THE SOUTH-WEST PENINSULA.

The south-western peninsula of Ontario is the very garden
of Canada. Grapes of the finest varieties grow in the open air,
and considerable quantities of wine are manufactured. All
manner of fruits abound. The finest peaches I ever saw grew
in my own garden at Hamilton. The peach orchards below the
mountain, all the way to the Niagara River, are of unsurpassed
productiveness and quality During the peach season the
wharf at Niagara is laden with this luscious fruit and the air

Sunday Mokning in Ontario.

is fragrant with its exquisite perfume. Apples, plums, pears,
cherries, and even that southern fruit, the pawpaw, reach per-
fection. But these fruits, with the exception of the latter,
abound through all parts of Ontario.

No part of the. country is so well supplied with railways as
this south-western peninsula. Four trunk lines pass through
it from end to end, besides numerous transverse lines. Among
the many thriving towns and cities that stud the fair and
fertile expanse are Welland, St. Catharines, Cayuga, Brantford,
Simcoe, St. Thomas, London, Chatham, Petrolia, Sarnia, Inger-

SOCIAL CULTURE.

343

soil, Woodstock, Paris, and many another, which the space at
our command will nut allow us to dwell upon.

The intelligence and morality of the pouplu are not Hurpassed

in any land beneath the sun ; while in the devout observance
of the Sabbath our Canadian cities, towns and villages set an
example to the whole world.

344

EDUCA TION.

The Educational system of Ontario is one of the best in the
world. It consists of Public Schools, High Schools end the
University, an organic whole, each part fused into the other.
Of the primary schools there are five thousand three hundred,
which are all public with the exception of two hundred Roman
Catholic Separate Schools. At these schools there are nearly
five hundred thousand children. The cost of these schools is
three million and a quarter dollars, supplemented by a quarter
of a million from the public trtjasury of the province. Then
follow the High Schools, which are also democratic. There are

Old Grist Mill.

five hundred masters of these schools, about ninety per cent,
of whom hold degrees from some university in the Dominion.
They are attended by fifteen thousand scholars, and cost half a
million dollars, one hundred thousand dollars being contributed
by the State. Tiiero is no obstacle to the poorest bo^' in the
province receiving a good elementary education. There are
trained teachers in every school in the province and no experi-
menting by novices is allowed. There is a training school in
every county ^jf third class tee ohers, and two Normal Schools.
One of the most important engineering enterprises of the
country is !/he Welland Canal, connecting LtiLe Ontario with

THE WELLAND CANAL.

Lake Erie, and overcoming the difference of two hundred and
fifty-two feet between them. This system of internal naviga-
tion is further supplemented by the St. Lawrence River canals,
which overcome a vertical height of two hundred and thirty-
two feet from tide water. By means of these canals vessels
may pass direct from Liverpool to Chicago without breaking
bulk ; and by means of the Sault Ste. Marie Canal they can
pass direct to Duluth, at the head of Lake Superior, nearly
midway across the continent. As may well be supposed there
are many charming bits of scenery on these canals, e.'vpecially
where the Welland Canal overcomes the mountain between the
beautiful city of St. Catharines and the busy manufacturing
town of Thorold. The water privileges created by the canal have
been very extensively utilized, and numerous mills and manu-
factories have been established wherever a sufficient head of
water could be secured. Near Thorold, at Beaver Dam, occurred
one of the most dramatic episodes of the war of 1812-14.

LAURA SECORD.

Laura Secord, a brave Canadian woman, during that stormy
time, walked alone through the wilderness from her home on
the Niagara River to a British Post at Beaver Dam, a distance
of twenty miles, to give warning of the invasion of an American
force. In consequence of this heroic act nearly the whole of
the invading party were captured. The Prince of Wales, when
in Canada, visited Laura Secord, then a very old lady, and
gave her a handsome present. The following stirring poem by
Dr. Jakeway records her brave deed :

On the sacred scroll of glory

Let us blazon ffjitli the story
Of a bravo Canadian woman, with the fervid pen of fame ;

So that all the world may read it,

And that every heart may lieed it,
And rehearse it through the ages to tlie honour of her name.

In the far-oft' days of battle,

When the muskets' rapid rattle
Far re-echoed through the forest, Laura Secord sj^ed along ;

Deep into the woodland mazy,

Over pathway wild and hazy,
With a firm and fearless footstep and a courage staunch and strong.

346

LAURA SECORD.

She had heard the host preparing,

And at once with dauntless daring
Hurried off to give the warning of the fast-advancing foe ;

And she flitted like a shadow

Far away o'er fen and meadow,
Where the wolf was in the wild wood, and the lynx was lying low.

From within the wild recesses

Of the tangled wildernesses,
Fearful sounds came floating outward as she fastly fled ahead ;

And she heard the gutt'ral growling

Of the bears, that, near her prowling, [they fed.

Crushed their way throughcjut the thickets for the food on which

Far and near the hideous whooping

Of the painted Indians, trooping
For the foray, pealed upon her with a weird, unearthly sound ;

While great snakes were gliding past her.

As she sped on fast and faster,
And disaster on disaster seemed to threaten all around.

Thus for twenty miles she travelled

Over pathways rough and ravelled.
Bearing dangers for her country like the fabled ones of yore ;

Till she reached her destination.

And foi-ewarned the threatened station
Of the wave that was advancing to engulf it deep in gore.

Just in time the welcome warning

Came unto the men, that, scorning
To retire before the foenien, rallied ready for the fray ;

And they gave such gallant greeting.

That the foe was soon retreating
Back in wild dismay and terror on that fearful battle day.

Few returned to tell the story

Of the conflict sharp and gory.
That was won with brilliant glory by that brave Canadian band ;

For the host of prisoners captured

Far outnumbered the enraptured
Little group of gallant soldiers fighting for their native land.

Braver deeds are not recorded

In historic treasures hoarded.
Than the march of Laura Secord through the forest long ago ;

And no nobler deed of daring

Than the cool and crafty snaring
By that band at Beaver Dam of all that well-appointed foe.

GRIMSBY PARK.

347

Grimbsy Park, comprising one hundred acres, laid out on the
west shore of Lake Ontario, on the main line of the Grand
Trunk Railway, Southern Division, and about midway between
Hamilton and the Niagara Falls, is a point of great beauty.

There is probably no other camp-ground in Canada possessing
the religious interest of this time-honoured Assembly. Long
before the days of modern summer resorts, it was a place of
gathering for the tribes of God's spiritual Israel Many and
marvellous were the displays of
revival power there manifested,
and many throughout
the country look to ,
it with
devout

Gkimsby Park, Forest View.

gratitude as the place of their spiritual birth into the new life
of the Gospel. There, for the first time, I witnessed the inter-
esting ceremony of leave-taking and " breaking up the camp."
Every person on the ground, except a few who were detained
in the tents by domestic duties, joined in a procession, and
walked two and two, headed by the preachers, round and round
the inside of the encampment, singing hymns and marching
songs.

848

OLD- TIME CAMP-MEETING.

At length the preachers all took their place in front of the
pulpit or preacher's stand, and shook hands with every member
of the procession as they passed by. After this the procession
continued to melt away, as it were, those walking at the head
falling out of rank and forming in single line around the
encampment, still shaking hands in succession with those
marching, till every person on the ground had shaken hands
with everybody else — an evolution difficult to describe intelli-
gently to one who has never witnessed it ; yet one that is very
easily and very rapidly performed. The greeting was a mutual
pledge of brotherhood and Christian fellowship. Warm and

fervent were the hand-clasps,
and touching and tender the
farewells. Then the doxology
was sung, the benediction pro-
nounced, and the camp-meeting
was over.

All this had taken place by
noon, or shortly after. Soon a
great change passed over the
scene. It was like coming
down from a Mount of Trans-
figuration to the every-day
duties of life. The last meal
in camp was hastily prepared
and eaten, somewhat, as we may imagine, was the last meal
of the Israelites before the Exodus. The afternoon was full
of bustle and activity, breaking up the encampment, loading
up teams, and the driving away to their respective homes
of the people who, for over a week, had held their Feast of
Tabernacles to the Lord.

At length the last waggon had gone, the last loiterer had
departed, and the silent camp, but late the scene of so much
life, was left to the blue-birds and the squirrels. But in many
a distant home, and in many a human heart, the germs of a
new life had been planted, to bring forth fruit unto life eternal.
Very different is the appearance of Grimbsy Park to-day.
Instead of the rude sheds, dignified with the name of " tents,"

Victoria Terrace.

A MODERN SUMMER RESORT.

349

are groups of elegant cottages, of villa-like proportions and
ornate character, or rows of graceful canvas structures, almost
rivalling them in taste and beauty. A charming park, winding
walks, a pond with water plants, and at night the brilliance of
the electric lights, all attest the march of improvement in these
latter days. There are those who say that in one respect, at
least, the former days were better than these — that there were
manifestations of divine power such as are not witnessed at the
modern assembly. This is possibly true. But we must take
into account the different circumstances under which they are
held. The old-fashioned camp-meetings were held for only a
week and for a sole and definite purpose — the salvation of souls.
This was the burden of prayer for weeks before on all the
adjacent circuits, and the
preachers and the people
came up to the Feast of
Tabernacles full of holy ex-
pectation— and they were
not disappointed.

The modern summer as-
sembly lasts for two or
three months. Weary
toilers from the cities'
crowded hives come for rest and recuperation of body and
mind. The same high-strung spiritual tension cannot be main-
tained for two or three months that was possible for a week or
two. So it is quite probable that intense religious emotions
may not be a general characteristic, as during the "old-fashioned
camp- meetings."

1 1 has become a necessity of modern life that the o'er-strung
liow shall be unbent, that men in business take a brief holiday
from toil, that ladies and children find respite from the exac-
tions of society and school. Till recently the chief places of
summer resort were scenes of fashionable dissipation and folly,
which no Christian could visit without impairment of his
spiritual health. Thanks to the management of such assemblies
as Grimbsy Park, Wesley Park, the Niagara Assembly, the St.
Lawrence Camp-ground, and others of the sort, ample provision

Park Row.

HAMILTON,

351

is made for rest and recreation under religious influences, and
heads of households may leave their families in such places
with the confidence that the moral, social, intellectual and
religious influences surrounding them shall be in the highest
degree helpful and wholesome.

Ontario

Farm Scexkrt

Situated on a beautiful and capacious bay at the head of
Lake Ontario is the city of Hamilton. It is the seat of large
manufacturing industries, and the centre of an important rail-
way system. The mountain slope in the rear furnish numerous
picturesque villa sites, of which the wealthy enterprise of the

'7^5*.f«sf5Mis"*r5^^^^

THE GRAND RIVER.

353

city has not failed to avail itself. The full-page engraving
gives a view of Hamilton from the mountain — one of the most
beautiful city views to be had in the Dominion. Beneath lies
the garden city, before us
the sail-dotted harbour, with
the rolling hills beyond; to
the right the blue waters of
Ontario, and to the left the
lovely Dundas Valley, which,
seen under a western sun,
is a vision of delight. The
city was laid out and settled
in 1813, by George Hamilton.
Its new Court House, Post
Office, Ladies' College, and
other specimens of civic
architecture would do credit
to any city on the continent.
On the Grand River, which
winds its devious way from
the county of Peel to Lake
Erie, are the thriving manu-
facturing towns of Gait, Paris,
Caledonia, Cayuga, Dun ville,
and the important inland city
of Brantford, one of the most
beautiful and flourishing in
the province. Near Brant-
ford is the old Indian settle-
ment to which the Mohawk
Indians were removed from
their original settlements on
the Mohawk River at the
time of the Revolutionary
War. Here is situated the
oldest church in the province. Its history can be traced back
to 1784. It is still occupied for public worship. It possesses
a handsome communion service of beaten silver, presented by

354

INDIAN RESERVES.

Queen Anne to the Indian chapel on tlie Mohawk River.
Beneath the walls of the humble sanctuary repose the ashos of
the Mohawk chief, Thayendinaga — Joseph Brant — who gal-
lantly fought for the Biitish through two bloody wars.

Other Indian reserves have been created at several places, as
New Credit, Rice Lake, Rama, Walpole Island and elsewhere.
On these reserves the Indians have been trained in the arts of
peace, and, to a limited extent, in the practice of agriculture.
But they do not exhibit much self-reliance nor aptitude of self-
support; and the very assistance given them by the Government

Christian Indian Village, Port Credit.

and the missionary societies of the several Churches has, to a
large degree, kept them in a state of tutelage and wardship
that is unfavourable to the development of hardy energy of
character. Yet many have been reclaimed from a life of
barbarism and savagery, and elevated to the dignity of men
and to the fellowship of saints. Our small cut shows the trim
aspect of the Indian village at the Credit River, where the Rev.
Dr. Ryerson, when a young man, spent the first year of his
Christian ministry. He expresses in his private journal, written
about sixty years ago, his trepidation on being cajled from this
ministration to preach to the cultured and intelligent people of
the town of York.

^-^

356

WESTERN TOIVNS.

London, another important city in the Western Peninsula,
is situated in the nudst of a fertile agricultural country und
is an important railway centre and commercial and manufactur-
ing entrepot. Its broad streets, beautiful parks, substantial
and ele<fant bulldinfrs, and the pictures(|ueness of the winding
river Thames make It a very desirable place of residence. It
is also the seat of a successful ladies' college, and of the Western
University.

Nineteen miles south of London is the rapidly growing town
of St. Thomas, also an important railway centre and distribut-
ing point. Alma College, one of the most successful of the
institutions of the province for the higher education of women,
is situated here. Ten miles further .south is Port Stanley, on
Lake Erie — a charming summer resort and a place of consider-
able shipping interest.

The most .southerly part of Canada is Point Pelee Island, off
Point Pelee, in the county of Essex, Ontario. Both of these
extend below 42^ north latitude, about the latitude of Rome
and Barcelona. Grapes flourish in great profusion.

Sixty-seven miles west of London is the town of Chatham,
on the Southern Division of the Grand Trunk Railway, and on
the river Thames, here navigable for vessels of a considerable
size. On the Detroit frontier is the quaint old-fashioned town
of Amherstburg — a place of considerable military importance as
a garrison town during the troublous times of 1812, and during
the Rebellion of 1837, but now living on the memories of its
past amid its picturesque Lombardy poplars and pleasant rural
surroundings.

Opposite the busy city of Detroit, on the bold banks of the
St. Clair, is the handsome and thriving town of Windsor. The
proposed construction of a railway bridge or tunnel beneath the
river at this point is likely to greatly increase the commercial
importance of this town. All along the western frontier there
is a considerable survival of the original French population
which maintains its language, religion and institutions almost
unaffected by its English -speaking environment. It is quite
like a bit of Lower Canada transported to the banks of the St.
Clair.

358

OIL PRODUCTION.

• I

1 ; 1

THE OIL WELLS OF CANADA.

We pause here to reproduce the description from the graphic
pen of the Rev. David Savage, of an important industry of
Canada, which has its chief seat in the western part of this
peninsula :

" The oil industry of Canada has come to be no insignificant
factor in the commerce of the country, though its historical
record is a very brief one. Our oil-producing section lies
almost wholly within the limits of the county of Lambton, in
the townships of Enniskillon, Moore, and Sarnia. Enniskillen
has much the most proliiic yield. Within this township are
located the villages of Oil Springs, Oil City, and last, but not
least, the town of Petvolia, which is the emporium of the oil
trade in Canada. It is a strange-looking region this : the flat
country covered with a forest of derricks, the surface disfigured
by excavations for underground tankage, whose capacitj'^ is a
matter of astonishment to strangers — underground tankage is
preferred, as it keep'-: the oil at a more equitable temperature,
and thus obviates much waste from evaporation. Pipe-lines
run Tix all directions with receiving ' stations ' at regular and
irregular intervals. We have heard an estimate of the pipe-
laying used for the conveyance of oil in this section of country
as reaching a longitudinal measurement of between thirty and
forty miles. Fireproof iron tanks, engine-houses, treating-
houses, still-houses, barrel -houses, agitators — all these latter at
headquarters — vary, if they do not improve, the local scenery.
A visit to the refineries on a dark, and, if possible, a stormy
night, is an indispensable part of the progrannne of sight-seeing
for a stranger. The roar and rage of the furnaces, the fiare of
the lights, the intense fiery glow fiung upon all near objects,
animate and inanimate, set ott' the more conspicuously by an
inky background of surrounding darkness, all this together
makes up a picture which, for weirdness and wildness, may
pass for a not very inferior reproduction of some of the scenes
of Tartarus of classic story. A burning oil-tank, the represen-
tation of which is given on page .'JG7, happily an event of no<
frequent occurrence, is a scene unique in its iiorror, and once
seen it is remembered forever.

: i|

-4l

•«iw««f«w(««iBBfi"i«PT»w^ir»e

OIL WELLS.

359

" It is said that the greasy, foul-looking, and foul-smolling
fluid known as crude oil used to be collected by the aboriginal

TORI'EDOINC! AN' < /IL-'.VSLI..

inhaliitants of the country as it oozed in small (|unnt,ities
through the surface soil, an<l was employed by them for rrje<li-
ciniil purposes, chiefly, perhaps, as an embrocation. Since the

360

GUM BEDS.

settlement of the country, the Indians have been known to
offer it for sale to the white man with strong commendations
of its virtues. In the neighbourhood ol: Oil Springs are situated
the ' gum beds.' These are tracts of about four acres each —
tliere are two of them — covered by a crust varying from two
or three inches to about as many feet in thickness; the accumu-
lation, it may be supposed of ages, being a residuum from the
oil forced to the surface, the more volatile properties having
passed off in evaporation. The 'gum' is a highly combustible
substance, and is used on the spot to feed furnaces. As far
back as 1853-4, these 'gum beds' attracted sufficient attention
to induce an enterprising Canadian to experiment with chemical
appliances upon the strange-looking substance found in the
locality. It was demonstrated that lubricating and illuminat-
ing oil could be manufactured from it, but not in paying
quantities. J. M. Williams, Esq., an enterprising projector,
.still further tested the properties of the 'gum,' introducing
and vigorously working on the ground two or three small
stills.' This was during the years 18.57-58, contemporary
with the appearance on the market of refined oil from
Pennsylvania. As a business venture, however, the prospect
was by no means a sanguine one. About this time, as Mr.
Williams was putting down a water-well, a depth had been
reached of some thirty feet, when on one memoralile morning,
as the workmen returned to the spot for another day's excava-
tions, the shaft was found nearly full to the surface of watei —
and oil !

" Pumping was at once commenced. Other wells were also
sunk at depths varying from thirty-seven to seventy feet till
the rock was reached This was the infancy of the oil enter-
prise, and these wells are known in the nomenclature of
the trade as 'surface wells.' The yield of these surface wells
was sufficiently encouraging to attract business, capital, and
.skill to the locality. Refineries, too, were .started at London,
Woodst</ck and Ilaiiiilton. The Sarnia branch of the Great
Western Road was now opened, and Wyoming, the nearest
•station to Oil Springs, became Uie receiving point for the new
staple. For a distance of some thirteen miles the black un-

FLOWING WELLS.

361

savory product was drawn with oxen and horses by circuitous
routes through the forests and over execrable roads on 'stone
boats ' or ' mud sleighs.' Two barrels with the driver were
considered under these unfavourable circumstances of travel a
full load for a team. The pioneers of the oil industry have
some laughable tales to tell of the experiences of these early
days, with occasionally a touch of the tragic in them, too.

"The next stage '.n the development of the Canadian oil
trade is marked by the arrival on the scene of L. B. Vaughan,
Esq., an enterprising oil operator from Pennsylvania, who,
bringing his large American experience to bear upon the work
undertaken, commenced at once to drill into the rock, 'strik-
ing oil ' at a depth of eighty-six feet from the surface. This
was in November, 1860. The new departure proved an
assured success. It is argued in support of the Scriptural
,s>p,rment, ' There is no new thing under the sun,' that the
;•. larch Job was evidently in advance of the oil-speculators
of our day when, among his experiences iti that remote age,
'the rock poured him out rivers of oil.' Leaving the exegesis
of this passage in other hands, certain it is that the geological
formation now reached and pierced in this Canada of ours did
illustrate our quotation on a scale that filled the whole land
with the bruit of it.

"Soon appeared the remarkable phenomena known as 'flow-
ing wells.' Without any previous notice, when the drilling of
what is known as the 'Shaw well' reached a depth of one
hundred and fifty-eight feet in the rock, a powerful stream of
petroleum rushed to the surface, spouting to a height of some
twenty-five feet from the mouth of the bore. The surprise and
bewilderment of the workmen may be conceived. It was more
than the bargain. The flow from this well was estimated at
— for a time — three thousand barrels a day! Indeed, amongst
some thirty Howing wells which followed in quick succession,
the discharge from one is said to have reached the almost
incredible volume of six thousand barrels in twenty-four hours.
No such yield was ever known before or since, even in the
history of the older and more extensive oil regions of Penn-
sylvania. We are not surprised at being told that the workmen

\ '

362

O VER - PROD UCTION.

were taken from the mouth of this well blinded and overcome
by the rush of gas to the surface ; the wonder rather is that no
lives were lost under such exceptional conditions of exposure.
Some of these wells flowed but a week, while others kept up
their supply — without the use of pumps — for some twelve
months.

" To save the product was of course impossible. -Acres of
land were ,co\ ered with it. The native forest had been
' slashed ' in that particular locality, and workmen passed
from point to point by the help of the fallen trees, their trunks
and limbs and brush furnishing the only road-bed available for
the time. Finding the lower level , the waterways were soon
full of the unwelcome fluid. Bear Creek was transformed into
a rushing river of petroleum. Oil could be dipped from the
bed of the river in unknown quantities. On it flowed, discharg-
ing into the St. Clair, spreading itself over the surface of the
lake and tainting the hitherto unsullied waters of the Detroit
River. Some millions of barrels are supposed to have run to
waste in this way during this phenomenal season. With the
enormous over-prod action, prices of course fell correspondingly.
3rude nil would, with difficulty, change hands at ten cents per
barrel, while refined was sold at the same rate per gallon.
Perhaps no one line of business speculation has been marked by
so much uncertainty, such sudden and extreme fluctuations as
belong to the oil trade. By 1804 the flowing wells were a thing
of the past, and prices rapidly rose until, in the fall of 186'),
nude oil stood at ten dollars a barrel. After this, refineries
having been established at the village of Oil Springs, and a
large amount of capital — much of it American — having being
invested in the development of the industry, a point of over-
production was again reached, when prices tumbled down once
more to forty cents a barrel for crude, and ten cents a gallon
for refined. Manufacturers are said to have sold at the latter
figure by the car-load.

"During the years 18G0-7, ^ome very successful ventures in
drilling were realized in a locality to the north of Oil Springs
operations having been in progress there for some time pre-
viously. The yield proved to be just then better as to (juantity,

SINKING A WELL.

363

and with less admixture of water than on the old ground.
Wells were accordingly
multiplied, capital flowed
in freely, competition
was active, and with a
rapidity characteristic
to the oil industry, its
headquarters was sud-
denly shifted from Oil
Springs to what is now
the town of Petrolia, a
municipality which, with
its outlying suburb of
Marthaville, sustains a
population at this writ-
ing of between six and
seven thousand inhabi-
tants. According to the
figures furnished by the
'Petrolia Crude Oil and
Tanking Company,' there
were at that time not
less than two thousand
producing wells in this
immediate section.

" Sinking a well in the
old days of 18G1-2 used
to be a serious undertak-
ing, involving an expen-
diture of much money,
time and patience. In
the matter of time, about
as many month* were
required at that time as
days are now. The work
was performed by An^er-
icans, who so magnified their office that a long puf^f? was
needed to initiate a novice into the respectable craft of uil

ISlK.MNU W'KLI,, IIV NKillT.

364

DRILLING.

producers. Since then Pefcrolia has come to be so prolific of
skilful drillers that wherever difficult and untried fields are to
be pierced, its workmen are in active demand. From Cape
Breton to Mt'xico, across to British Columbia, in far-off' Burmah
and tremulous Java, in Germany, Italy, Austria and Roumania,
drillers from Petrolia have successfully operated on the stony
casinc^ that contains the oily treasures of the earth.

"Six men make up a 'crew' for drill injj. They work in
'shifts,' or as it is called here 'tours,' of twelve hours each,
three at a time — engineer, driller, and scaffold-man. The 'rig'
consists of engine, boiler, walking-beam actuated by crank and
pitman, draw- wheel, spool and derrick. The 'tools' are, begin-
ning at the bottom, a 'bit' some two and a half feet long,
having ten or twelve pounds of steel, nearly five inches wide
and one and a half inches thick, welded to a piece of two and
a half inch square iron, the upper end forming a pin with
shoulder below. This pin is threaded and accurately fitted to a
socket at the bottom end of the 'sinker.' The 'sinker' is a
bar of three and a (juarter inch round iron, some thirty feet
long, ending at the top in a pin like that upon the bit, and
connecting wi^h the 'slips,' which consist of a huge pair of
chain links whose most important use is to jar the bit and
sinker loose in case the bit gets \yedged in the rock, which
sometimes happens. With the top of the ' slips ' you reach
the end of what dx illers call the ' tools.' Such a ' heft ' of
metal with its 'dressed' edge striking the rock at a speed of
fully sixty blows a minute, may w^eil be supposed to do very
vierorou* execution. The connecticn toward the walkintr-beam
is continued by means of poles of two inch white ash, each pole
being made of two pieces, each eighteen feet long, riveted
securely in the middle with heavy iron straps, the ends having
a pin and aocket respectively to onni'ct with other poles. Just
in the use of these poles instead of rope lies the superiority of
Canadian over Pennsylvanian methods of drilling, the action of
poles being uioro positive taun that of rope, and the practicable
speed nUogethor higher.

"The surt'aee of the rock in Petrolia and its neighbourhood
is usually reachetl — except by the water-course, where the dis-

DRILLING.

3G5

tance is less — at a depth of about one hundred feet. Ninety
Eeet of this distance is mostly compact blue clay, then a few
feet of hard sand next the rock. The clav is bored through
with an auger of peculiar construction and well suited to its
work. Ten hours of boring — by hor.se-power — and the rock is
generally found. To prevent caving, an octagonal tube of
rough inch boards is put into the bore. Then begins the dril-
ling. The 'tools' are 'swung," and from live to six consecutive
days of twenty-four hours each the rock is pounded and ground
at a rate from two to eight feet of progress per hour. After
drilling a few feet the hole is 'rimmed' larger for a few inches
and the 'casing' put in. This casing consists of wrought iron pipe
screwed together in sections, has a diameter of about five inches,
and protects the bore against flooding. At intervals of from
five to ten feet of drilling, the 'tools' are drawn up and the
' cuttings ' ' sand-pumped.' The .sand-pump is a wrought iron
tube about twenty-five or thirty feet long with a valve in
the bottom. It is attached to the poles and is f]l!o(! by drop-
ping it sharply from the height of a few inches i;pon the mud
and 'cutting.s.'

" The first twenty-five feet of the rock con, I'-tH mostly of
limestone, then for a hundred and fifty feet a formation of .soap-
stone. The soapstone seems to be just a solidly-compressed
clay, then about twenty-five feet of limestone with occasional
layers of shale, then from twelve to twenty -five feet of more
soapstone, then limestone again, to a depth of four hundred and
fifty feet, when for fifteen or twenty feet layers of porous
sandstone may be looked for and usually some oil. Small
deposits of oil are frequently found all the way fruin the sur-
face of the rock down, but the veins that last are rarely reached
-short of four hundred and fifty feet from the surface. The
charge for putting down a well, including boring, drilling, and
other work necessary for testing, is i?22.5.

"Among the modern appliances for developing the yield of a
well is the use of the torpedo, which is now generally intro-
duced when the drilling is finished. The well torpedo is simply
a tin tube closed at the bottom, five or six feet long, with a
diameter of .some three inches. Into this tube nitro-glycerine

3G6

TORPEDOING A WELL.

is poured, the top being left uncovered. To a strip of tin
soldered across the upper and open end of the torpedo is
fastened a small piece of tin piping in which have been deposited
bits of iron wire with gun caps on their ends, the top of the
upper piece reaching above the rim of the main tube. The
torpedo is lowered through, perhaps, as much as a hundred feet
of water which has been poured into the shaft. The explosive
is not injured by contact with water, and, having a- greater
specific gravity, the tube sinks to the bottom of the well. A
piece of iron is then dropped on it, when the gun caps usually
explode and the nitro-glycerine is set off. Sometimes, however,
additional violence has to be employed to compass this end, as
by dropping a heavy bar of iron on the tube, or, it may be,
sending down a small case containing an extra pint of the
explosive with a second supply of gun caps attached.

"When the torpedo 'goes off' water, oil, splinters of rock
and whatever else may have found its way into the bore, all
are blown with great force from the mouth of the well, forming
an oily geyser that rises sometimes a hundred feet in the air,
bespattering all and sundry within its reach, particularly on
the lee side if the wind should chance to be blowing. Torpe-
does are also employed with considerable success in renewing
old and failing wells. Nitro-glycerine is generally regarded as a
highly dangerous commodity, but in the oil country it seems to
be handled without fear. Workmen who have occasion to use
the compound carry it along the streets with as little concern
as they ilo their cold tea, and even drive over our rough roads
at a smart trot with cans of the terrible stuff under the s >ats
of their buggies."

The following extract from the author's story of " Life in a
Parsonage," gives a sketch of a not unconnnon incident in an
oil region :

" The wells on Oil Creek had been pumping splendidly, and
one or two flowing wells that had gone dry began to flow again.
Every oil-tank was full — they are enormous iron structures
as bis: as a great gasometer — and millions of gallons were sent
by the pipe-lines to the great oil refineries and storage tanks.
But every place was full and overflowing with oil. It filled

U^ ,

OIL-TANK ON FIRE.

307

the tanks, and soaked the grountJ, and poured into the creek,
floating on the top of tlie water, and shining in tlie sunliglit
with a strange iridescence, all the colours of the rainbow.
Everything was reeking with the smell of oil.

" The strictest orders were given to observe the utmost pre-
cautions against fire, and absolutely prohibiting smoking about
the works. But there are men who will smoke, even though
they were in a powder magazine, or in a mine filled with fire-

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BaNO ! BANO ! WENT THE CaNNON.

damp. There was one such, a stoker in the boiler-house. At
the close of one of the dark days of December, just as the men
were leaving work, he laid down his pipe, which he had been
smoking, near some oil-soaked rags ; and in a moment — almost
before the men could get out of the building — the whole place
was wrapped in flames. The men had to fly for their lives,
almost without attempting to save a thing. In a few minutes
the whole valley seemed ablaze. The oil derricks caught fire

308

<;//. 7>i:VA' cyV FIRE.

4 i

one after another, and flamed like ijreat beacons af^ovinst the
dark' pines on the hill .side, li<j;hting np everythinj,^ as brij^ht us
day. Presently one of the rrreat oil tanks canj^ht fire, no one
knew how, and shot up to the sky a j^reat column of flame and
lurid smoke. Then the men began to dij;- trenches from the
taid<s to the creek, and I heard them .shout to brini.j the cannon,
and tliey drai,'ged the twelve-pounder from the lire-hall u[) to
hill, near the tank. They then bcf^an firing round shot against
the taid<, so as to draw off the oil into the creek, to prevent it
exploding and firing the other tanks. Bang ! bang ! went the
cannon. Sometimes the balls missed the tank, sometimes tliey
glanced from the iron sides; but at last two balls, one after
another, pierced the tank, and the black streams of oil poured
out and flowed into the creek ; thousands of dollars' worth
going to waste.

" How it was no one knew, but .suddenly tlie oil in the creek
caught fire, and, like a flash, the flames ran down the stream —
a river of fire licking up everything that could burn. Oh, it
was awful — the roar of the flames, the cra.sh of the falling
derricks, the rolling clouds of lurid .smoke! Then the other
tanks of oil, one after another, caught fire, and some of thera
exploded with a fearful noi.se, scattering the flames .far and
wide. In an hour everything was destroyed — only the charred
and blackened valley, with here and there a .skeleton derrick
and the rusty oil tanks were all that remained."

We proceed to enumerate the other principal towns and cities
of Ontario.

On the railways running west and north-west from Toronto
are the important towns and cities of Milton, Gait, Guelph —
with the Government Model Farm — Berlin, Stratford, Seaforth,
Clinton, and Goderich, the latter on a commanding bluff" over-
looking Lake Huron, with numerous salt wells in the vicinity.
These wells are bored to a great depth till the .salt-beds are
reached. The strong brine is pumped into vats and is boiled
down and evaporated till .salt of great purity is obtained. It
commands a ready market throughout the Dominion, and con-
tributes not a little to the prosperity of the salt regions of
Ontario. Other principal towns north-west of Toronto ar&

v\i:u^i3SMtss:^'!^

AVA'7//- n'/.STKRX TOIVNS.

.'109

Kincardine, Port Elgin and Walicerton; Wiarton, Owon Sound
and Collingwood on Geor^'ian Bay; Fer<,'U3 and Elora, the latter

A ;Stiit, Sequestekkd Nook.

surrounded by beau:ifnl soenery, and many a still sequestered
nook ; Orangeville, , '< or .jetown, Brampton, and many other
centres of trade and manufacturing industry.
24

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-S)

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Photographic

Sciences
Corporation

23 WESTMAitM STr^r

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580

(716) 873-4503

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Bits in Muskoka.

THE NORTHERN RAILWAY.

871

.1 II V

THE MUSKOKA LAKEa

The Northern Railway, the first iron road constructed in
Ontario, opens up a vast extent of rich agricultural country,
valuable lumber districts and picturesque lake region. The
beautiful, island -studded, forest -bordered Lakes Muskoka,
Joseph and Rosseau. furnish one of the most admirable camping,
fishing and summer resorts to be found in the province. We
borrow the following description from an accomplished writer :

Leaving Toronto by one of the express trains, the passengers
will pass through many populous and prosperous towns and
villages, and through a rich agricultural country, which is
highly picturesquie, and illustrates a very high standard of
farming and its wealth.

At four miles is Davenport, a hill-side locality fast filling
with suburban residences, and whose pretty station with flower-
garden and high-gabled roof, conveys reminiscences of English
neatness and finish. Between this station and Weston, to the
left, is seen the Valley of the Humber, and the Caledon Hills
closing in the distant view.

The height of land between Lakes Ontario and Huron is
reuched at the summit (twenty-six mil^is from Toronto), which
is seven hundred and fifty-five feet above the level of Lake
Ontario, and four hundred and fifteen feet above that of Lake
Huron. A few miles beyond King the line passes, by not a
few curves, through " The Ridges," and then enters the finely-
farmed district especially noted for the excellence of its horses
and sheep. The village of Aurora lies to the left. Four miles
farther on is Newmarket, population 3,000, a place of con-
siderable age and importance, and the headquarters of some
energetic manufacturing interests. Near the town of Bradford
the line passes over what is known as the Holland River
Marsh, a locality celebrated amongst sportsmen for its abundant
supply of snipe, wild duck, and for maskinonge and bass fishing.
To this point Governor Simcoe constructed the great northern
road of the prov ince, Yonge Street. Till the construction of
the Northern Railway this was the great artery of commerce.
During the war of 1812-14, all the naval and military stores
for the naval station at Pcnetanguishene were conveyed over

372

LAKE SIMCOE.

this road. At the park at Holland Landing is to he seen a
huge anchor designed for a British gunboat on Lake Huron,
which was drawn by twenty-four teams of oxen from Toronto
to its present position.

AUandale is situate on the shores of Kempenfeldt Bay, one of
the arms of Lake Simcoe, and is one of the neatest and most
charmingly-situated of railway stations. Having enjoyed this
first glimpse of beautiful lake scenery, the train is again taken,
and, passing Barrie, the county-town, a prosperous place of
6,000 inhabitants, whose houses, built on a hill-side, facing the

lake, rise picturesquely
above one another. A
short run follows over
a line of exceptional
excellence of construc-
tion, and through a
country of great agri-
cultural promise, as yet
but partially under cul-
tivation.

Lake Simcoe is the
largest of the inland
lakes of Ontario, being
thirty miles in length
and sixteen in breadth.
Its shores are charac-
terized by great sylvan
beauty. At Keswick
is seen the charmingly-situated resort of one of the great lumber
kings of the country, and many of the other choice spots begin
to be occupied with the summer residences of the more wealthy
inhabitants. Passing Snake Island, the isolated home of a fast-
dwindling Indian tribe, and Lighthouse, and other islands, the
open lake is reached.

The steamer then skirts the upper shores of the lake, past
deep bays, whose wooded promontories jut out picturesquely
into the water, and, sighting Atherley, after an easy run of two
hours, passes Qrape and other islands closely clustered together,

Laboe Anchor at Holland Landing Park.

LAKE COUCHICHING.

373

and enters the " Narrows," the water channel joining Lake
Simcoe with Lake Gouchiching, of which the first view is here
gained.

This lake is the highest in Ontario, being seven hundred and
fifty feet above Lake Ontario, four hundred and fifteen feet
above Lake Huron, and three hundred and ninety feet above
Lake Superior, as is plainly evidenced by the flow of the waters
which run northward, and thence bv a succession of falls down
the Severn River, gain the Georgian Bay, and so by Lakes
Huron and Erie, find their way to the " Great Leap " of the

— c».- 'iiFef?^,

gray g.x J-,-5 --■ --«T» - =\^^S«--.-V^, • Jtl;5Sa?-«MSi£' -^ '' tM/k" ^

,-'3

Grapk Island, Lakb Simcok.

height of land separating the Lakes of Muskoka from Lake
waters of all Northern America, the Niagara Falls, thus reach-
ing Lake Ontario by a circuit of eight hundred miles to attain
a point but forty miles from their original source. The eleva-
tion and clearness of the atmosphere, and the cool breezes
consequent chereon, would, apart from any other consideration,
be sufficient to commend the locality as a favourite summer
resort.

After crossing the Narrows' swing bridge, the line passes
through forests, through which distant views are obtained of
Lake Gouchiching to the left and Lake St. John to the right

...,

■'• i

374

ON THE SEVERN.

Having crossed the Severn upon a lofty bridge, it passes the
Couchiching. False impressions of the Free Grant District are

frequently taken from the appearance of the country seen along
this part of the trip \ but as, on the south side, there are tracts

On the Severn— a StiMMER Idyll.

ill

376

GRA VENHURST.

of fine farming land, so, to the north, this ridge being passed
over, lies the wide, arable country which is being so rapidly
peopled by thrifty settlers.

The Kasheshebogamog, a small stream with a very long name,
being crossed, the granite rocks raise their lofty sides, high
blufi cliffs overhang the railway as it curves around their
bases, in some places the front portion of the train is lost to

Granite Notch.

sight from the rear, but finally the " Granite Notch " is reached,
and the railway slips through a natural pass, fortunately left
for its passage by nature.

At one hundred and fifteen miles is Qravenhurst, a rising
town at the foot of the chain of the "Lakes of Muskoka."
From its position, is the key to the great Lake District of the
Muskoka, Magnetawan, the Nipissing regions, possessing ex-
cellent facilities for first-class railway system to the southward,
and by steamers on the lakes, and by rail and stages on the

NORTHERN RA/LIVAY EXTENSfON.

377

colonization roads, to the northward. The town occupies a
most eligible site, crowning elevated but not too hilly ground,
and encircling pretty bays in the form of huge amphitheatres.
The railway has recently been extended through a rugged
country to North Bay, on Lake Nipissing, where a junction is
effected with the Canadian Pacific. It is probable that before

HioH Falls, near Bracebridge.

long a further extension will connect the waters of Lake
Ontario with those of Hudson Bay.

At Gravenhurst the steamer of the Northern Lakes Naviga-
tion Company may be taken, and, passing out of the bay, through
the " Narrows," after a run of an hour through Lake Muskoka,
during which dinner is served, the steamer enters Muskoka
River. The river is rapid, deep, and dark in colour, the steep

378

BRACEBRIDGE.

banks fringed with forest, and the course full of quick, sharp
turns. Six miles from the mouth of the river is Bracebridge,
the chief village and capital of the District of Muskoka, situated
at the head of the Muskoka River navigation. The village is
incorporated, and has obtained a position of prominence and
importance in advance of all other villages in the Free Grant
Lands of Ontario. The site of the town is elevated and well

Sportsman's Pakauise.

chosen, commanding magnificent views of the fine valleys which
abound in the neighbourhood. The North Falls, a cascade of
about sixty feet, is in the centre village, and can be seen from
the steamboat landing, but the tourist must stop over to see the
grand South Falls of Muskoka, which are some two miles from
Bracebridge by road, or three by boat or canoe. The Falls are
composed of a series of cascades, and are well worthy of a visit,
the total height being one hundred and fifty feet. A good view

DUCK SHOOTING.

379

880

LAKE JOSEPH.

can be obtained by descending a pathway down the bank ; at
about half way down, turn to the right, to where a good solid
cliff projects, which commands a view of the entire cataract.
" Wilson's Falls " and " High Falls " are also within easy reach
by carriage or boat.

After returning down the river, and regaining the lake, in one
hour we reach Port Garling, on the Indian River, connecting
Lake Muskoka with Lake Rosseau, the higher level of the
latter being gained at this place by a Icck. The village might
not inaptly have been called Interlaken, from Hs 'position
between two lakes.

l^/:^l;

'M .

4./MO:"-- :.

Makino a Pobtaoi— Mcskoka Biveb.

At this point Lake Joseph is entered. The waters of all the
other lakes of Muskoka are dark in colour, but the waters of
this are beautifully clear, deep and soft, experienced tourists
speaking highly of their bathing qualities. The islands are
numerous, the shores rising into bluff headlands and promi-
nences peculiar to this lake. After a run of sixteen miles is
Port Gockbum. This place, better known perhaps as the
"Head of Lake Joseph," is pre-eminently well adapted as a
quiet, plain, pleasant, and healthful family summer resort. A
very good road connects the lake here with the Parry Sound
colonization road, a distance of a little less than two miles.

Proceeding from Port Carling dtrect up Lake Rosseau, the

HISTORIC MEMORIES.

381

steamer touches first at Winderinero, on the east shore, the
outlet of an important settlement, and shortly reaches the head
of the lake at Rosseau; the place commands an important
commercial position, in addition to its great natural beauties
and attraction for tourists and sportsmen.

One of the charms of visiting our beautiful Northern Lakes
is their association with tlio memory of the early French
explorers of Canada. At Orillia, for instance, was the great
rendezvous of the Indian tribes, whither, byway of the O'^^-'wa,
French River and Georgian Bay, came Champlain, who, fir; t >f
white men, saw these inland waters, two hundred and sevonty-

RUNNINO A llAPID— MUSKOKA RiVEB.

three years ago (1615), and where he dwelt among the Indians
one whole winter. The islands that dot the surface of the lake
gleam in the golden light like emerald gems upon its bosom.
The islands in Lake Joseph are of a more rugged character,
rising often abruptly in craggy rocks from the deep pellucid
waters. Dark spiry spruces also predominate, keeping, like
sentinels, their lonely watch on solitary island or cape.

The greatest fascination of this northern wilderness of lake
and stream is the numerous rapids and waterfalls with which
they abound. Many of these are of exquisite beauty. To
those who are fond of fishing, which, we confess, we are not,
these streams furnish great sport. But nothing, in its way, is

382

THE NORTHERN LAKES.

more delightful than glidin|r, almost like a bird, over the trans-
parent waters of these crystal lakes; or darting, almost like a
fish, down the arrowy rapids in the Indian's light canoe. It is
the very poetry of motion, and the canoe is, in skilful hands
the very embodiment of grace and beauty.

All the forest's life is in it,
All its mystery and its magic,
All the brightness of the birch-tree,
All the toughness of the cedar,
All the larch's supple sinews ;
As it floats upon the river
Like a yellow leaf in autumn,
Like a yellow water-lily.

The special advantage of the birch canoe is that its lightness
permits its being borne, as shown on page 380, over the numerous
portages by which the falls and rapids of these northern streams
are surmounted. The whole region for hunting and fishing is
a very sportsman's paradise.

LAKES HURON AND SUPERIOU.

The natural features of our great northern lakes, Huron and
Superior, are on a vaster scale than in the smaller lakes. The
shores are much bolder and of a sterner character. The scenery
is more sublime, but less beautiful. The sail on these lakes
may be begun at Midland, Collingwood, Owen Sound or Sarnia.
From the two former, one may take the inside channel through
the countless islands of Georgian Bay to Parry Sound, Byng
Inlet and French River — romantic regions with fine scenery,
good fishing and hunting, and extensive lumbering establish-
ments. The most attractive route to Sault Ste. Marie is that
between Manitoulin Island and the mainland. The entire
north coast of Lake Huron is indented with a thousand inlets,
separated by rocky capes. The La Cloche Mountains, rising
two thousand feet above the sea, stretch alone; its entire lensrth.
They are, for the most part, gray, barren rocks of the Huronian
formation, with highly tilted strata, and without timber enough
to carry a fire over them. They stretqh, like a billowy sea,
wave beyond wave, as far as the eye can reach — a scene of stern
and savage grandeur, almost appalling in its desolation. On a

SVAfES' CHANNEL.

888

narrow passage, between Manitoulin Island and the mainland,
is the little fishing hamlet of KiUarney, from which comes
much of the fish for the Toronto market. The entrance is
highly picturesque and very intricate, whence the Indian name,
Shebawenahning — " Here we have a channel."

A little further west the celebrated Symes' Channel begins a
mazy passage
among the
thousands of
islands that
border on the
North Shore.
The most im-
pressive char-
acteristic of i^"
this part of
the route is
the immense
number of is-
lands through
which the

channel lies, and which give '*
evidence of tremendous geo-
logical convulsions. They
are of all sizes and of every
conceivable shape, from the
Grand Manitoulin, containing
thousands of square miles, to
the single barren rock just
above the surface. Some are
bare and sterile, others clothed
in deep green folitige of the pines, relieved by the brighter tints
of the maple and white-skinned birches, which lave their tresses
in the water like naiads of the wave, and gaze at their bright
reflection on its surface, as though charmed with their own
loveliness. Now they seem completely to block up the path-
way, and, like wardens of these northern solitudes, to challenge
our right to approach their lone domain ; and now they open

Natural Bridge, Mackinac.

384

NORTHERN ARCHIPELAGO.

out into majestic vistas of fairy beauty as though inviting our
advance. Here they rise in lofty wood-crowned heights, and
there they merely lift their rounded backs, like leviathans, above
the water. In the distance they seem like a group of Tritons
sporting on the waves. In other places the steamer passes
through channels so narrowed that one might almost leap ashore
— in one the trees nearly brush the deck. At one spot forty of
these islands are in sight at once. Captain Bayfield set down
on his magnificent charts of these regions, thirty-six thousand
separate islands, on twenty thousand of which he had himself
set foot. In Lake Superior, according to Agassiz, there are

Sadlt Stu. Marii Falls.

nearly as many. They are all, with slight exceptions, on the
north shore. In the clear air and bright sunlight of these
regions some of the finest atmospheric effects are produced.
The red and purple and cool grays of the lichens, and the deep
rusty blue of the metallic oxides, produce rich bits of colour
such as artists love. Before reaching the Sault, the steamer
sometimes calls at Mackinac, at the entrance to Lake Michigan.
This is a place of much historic interest and scenic attraction.
The remarkable natural bridge in our cut is much visited.

At the Sault Ste. Marie, the St. Mary's River, giving outlet
to the mighty waters of Lake Superior, rushes like a race-horse

MEMORIES OF SAULT STE. MARIE.

38£

down its rocky channel, flecked with snowy foam as it leaps
from ledge to ledge. A short distance below, the buoy, strug-
gling like a drowning man with the waves, shows the strength
of the current. The Indians catch splendid fish in the rapids
with a scoop net, urging their frail canoes into the seething
vortex of the waves.

In 1671, Father Allouez planted a cedar cross and graved the
lilies of France, and, in the presence of a conclave of Indian
chiefs from the Red River, the Mississippi, and the St. Lawrence,
chanted, in the depths of the forest and beside the snowy waters
of St. Mary's Falls, the Mediaeval Latin hymn, —

" Vexilla Regis prodeunt
^ Fulget crucis mysterium."

Thus was the sovereignty of the whole country assumed in
the name of His Most Christian Majesty Louis XIV. The
traces of that sovereii^nty may be found from the island of St.
Pierre to the Rocky Mountains, from Hudson's Bay to the Gulf
of Mexico, in many of the names, and frequently in the preva-
lence of the languai'o and relisjion of La Belle France. The
early French explorers, with a wonderful prescience, followed
the great natural routes of travel, seized the keys of commerce,
and left their impress on the broad features of nature in the
names they gave to many of the mountains, lakes and rivers
of the continent. To-day the red Indian on the Qu'Appelle
presents his offering at the shrine of the Virgin on his return
from the hunt, and the voyageurs and coureurs de hois of the
Upper Ottawa and the great North- West chant the wanton
chansons sung by the courtiers of Versailles under the old
regime.

Passing through the lofty headlands of Gros Cap and Point
Iroquois, the northern Pillars of Hercules, some five or six
miles apart, we r ' - '■\- 'load expanse of this mighty island
lake, the "Big Sea Water" of the Indians. It is surrounded by
an almost unbroken rocky rim, from three or four hundred to
thirteen or fourteen hundred feet high, rising almost abruptly
from the shores. Over this the rivers fall in successive cascades,
frequently of five or six hundred feet in a few miles. In con-

886

A FINE OUTLOOK.

%
H
<

'A
M

o
P

B
ti

•<
Pu

mmm

ACROSS THE CONTINENT.

387

sequence of its depth, the waters are extremely cold, varying
little from 40° Fah. They are also remarkably clear. Dilke, in
his "Greater Britain," says, "clearer than those of Ceylon,"
which are famed for their transparency. The North Shore of
this great " unsalted sea " will be described later on.

o
a
o
H

■<

o
Q

>•

•J

OVER THE CANADIAN PACIFIC RAILWAY.

The following pages will give an account of a trip across the
continent by our new national highway, the Canadian Pacific
Railway. I enjoyed the company, as far as Winnipeg, of that
genial travelling companion, the Rev. T. B. Stephenson, LL.D.,
fraternal delegate from the British to the Canadian Methodist
Conference, who was also on a journey to the Pacific Coast.
Dr. Stephenson has been quite a " globe-trotter," and I think
enjoys the distinction of having seen more of Methodism
throughout the world than probably any man living. He has
also visited,'! think, every considerable town and city in the
Dominion, from Halifax to Victoria, B.C. In his journey round
the world he has found no place offering the conditions of pros-
perity to the young people trained in the various branches of
" the Children's Home " in England, like our beloved Canada.

We left the Union Station, Toronto, at five p.m., on September
22nd, 1886. As we skirted the northern front of the city, tine
views were obtained of its many towers and spires and of the
elegant villas on the neighbouring heights. A fine outlook is
obtained over the beautiful valley of the Don, from the graceful
bridge, combining both strength and beauty, which spans
that s+rftam, of the picturesque hamlets of Todmorden and
Affincourt, and of the rich farmsteads of Markham and Picker-
ing. In about three hours we reach the thriving town of
Peterborough with nine thousand inhabitants, on the Otonabee,
in a beautiful environment of hill and dale. Charbot Lake is
a charming sheet of water with bold, rocky shores, and dotted
with numerous verdure-clad islands. Perth and Smith's Falls
are thriving towns and important distributing centres for a
flourishing agricultural district. But of these we see nothing
during this trip, for we have not long, after leaving Toronto,
turned from the gathering darkness without to the warmth and

' i

888

OUR INTER-OCEANIC HIGHWA Y.

cheer within, and devoted ourselves to tea and talk, and then
to our comfortable beds — for, on the modem railway, one may
carry with him all the comforts of home.

The Canadian Pacific
Eailway is, I believe, the
longest railway under one
management in the world.
From Quebec to Vancouver
City is three thousand and
ninety miles, and exten-
sions are projected to
Louisburg, Cape Breton,
nearly a thousand miles
more. Canada is the only

On Chabbot Lake.

country in the v;^orld, except Russia in Europe and in Asia
combined, in which a continuous road of four thousand miles
through a territory under one govetiiment is, possible. The
main line begins at Montreal, from which place the through

msmm>

UP THE OTTAWA.

389

trains for the Pacific Coast start, passing through Ottawa. The
Canadian Pacific Railway has now a direct line from Toronto
to Montreal and the St. Lawrence seaboard, crossing the St
Lawrence near Lachine, on the fine iron bridge shown in cut.

The train on which I left Toronto, however, did not run
through to Ottawa City, but switched ofi^ in the night, at
Carleton Junction, upon the main line to the West, passing the
somewhat important towns of Almonte, Arnprior, Renfrew and
Pembroke, the latter situated on Allumette Lake, a beautiful
expansion of the Ottawa.

St. Lawrence Bridge, near Lachine.

When I awoke early in the morning we were gliding up the
valley of the Ottawa. The train swept along on a high bench
above the winding stream, here dimpled with smiles, there
seeming almost black by contrast with the snowy foam of the
frequent rapids. Across the stream great uplands sweep to the
sky-line. We passed many saw-mills and lumber villages with
their great rafts of timber — many of these with a rustic Roman
Catholic log church, surmounted by a huge wooden cross, for
many of the settlers, perhaps a majority, are French habitants.
The dense forests of pine climbed the steep slopes and stood in
serried ranks at the tops, like sentinels against the sky. The

mffff^'

890

FRENCH VILLAGES.

sombre blues and purples were relieved by the brighter tints
of the yellow larches and white-skinned birches and shivering
aspens. The uptilted strata of the ancient Laurcntian rock
attested the volcanic energy of long by-past ages, and the huge
travelled boulders illustrated the phenomena of the drift
period, when great glaciers ploughed and ground and moulded
the whole northern part of the continent.

French Canadian Village,
ON THE Ottawa.

LUMBERING.

The great river Ottawa, with its confluent streams, the Houge,
Lifevre, Gatineau, Bonnechere, Madawaska, Petewawa, Coulonge,
Noire, Moine, and many another, is the chief seat of one of
Canada's most important industries — the lumbering interest.
It will, therefore, be a convenient place here to give a brief
account of some aspects of this great industry.

I i

wmmmmmmm^

.^if.^i. '■ >Ai; .,-; ^.'''lV.i,i^;-4■iit.v-ViSl

CHA UDIERE SA W-MILLS,

391

There are many saw-mills on the Ottawa and its tributaries
at which the logs are 8awn into lumber. The largest of these
are situated at Chaudifere Falls, where the immense water-
power is employed to run great gangs of saws, which will cut
up a huge log in a marvellously short time. These, in the busy
season, run day and night; and the scene when the glittering

On the Head Waters of the Ottawa.

saws and wet and glistening logs are brilliantly illuminated
by the electric light, and are reflected in the flashing waters, is
a very remarkable one. But very many of the mills are much
smaller, and are situated near the source of supply of timber,
presenting the appearance shown in cut on next page. In course
of time all the available timber is used up, when the mill is
dismantled and the machinery moved to a new source of supply.
The great bulk of the lumbering, however, is done in remote

Saw-Mill in the Woods.

fr5»35j5^^^^

LUMBERING,

393

pine forests or timber limits leased by " lumber kings " who
employ large gangs of lumbermen in getting out the logs at
remote lumber camps. Often roads have to be made many
miles through the forest for the convenience of transporting
supplies for the large force of men and forage for the great
number of teams employed. Where it is possible, the mill is
built by a stream, as in cut on this page, for facility in floating
the logs and for the purpose of utilizing any water-power avail-

TyPICAIi Saw-milin

able. But very often steam-power is used, either exclusively
or as auxiliary.

The following sketch of life in a lumber camp is abridged
from the writer's story of " Lawrence Temple," which devotes
much space to this subject : '

A lumber camp consists generally of a group of buildings form-
ing three sides of a hollow square, the fourth side being open,
with a warm, sunny exposure, toward the south. One of these

394

A LUMBER CAMP,

buildings is a strong storehouse for keeping the flour, pork, tea,'
sugar, and other supplies required for one or two hundred men
for half a year. There is also ample stabling for the numerous
teams of horses employed. The most important building is the
"shanty" or boarding-house for the men. Instead of being, as

its name might imply, a frail structure,
it is a large, strongly-built log-house.
The openings between the logs are filled
with moss and clay. The windows are
very few and small For this there arc
three reasons — larger openings would
weaken the structure of the house, and
let in more cold, and glass is a rather
scarce commodity on the Upper Ottawa.
The whole interior is one large room.
The most conspicuous object is a
huge log fire-place or platform, like
an ancient altar, in the centre of the
floor. It is covered with
earth and blackened
embers, and is often
surrounded by a pro-
tecting border of cobble
stones. Immediately
over it an opening in
the roof gives vent to
the smoke, although in
the dull weather much
of it lingers among the
rafters, which fact gives
them a rather sombre
appearance. Around
the wall are rude " bunks " or berths like those in a ship, for
the accommodation of the shantymen. A few exceedingly solid-
looking benches, tables and shelves, made with backwoodsman
skill, with no other instrument than an axe and auger, are all
the furniture visible. Some wooden pegs are driven in the
wall to support the guns, powder-horns, shot-pouches, and extra

Part or Logoikq Camp.

fitgmmg^

»'7-,V'«'*!?'«»'W^W»^^Y'r.

S/fANTV LIFE.

S95

le
a

clothing; of the men. Over the doorway is, perhaps, fastened
a large deer's head with branching antlers. The house is warm
and comfortable, but with nothing like privacy for the men.

The other buildings are simi-
larly constructed and roofed
with logs split and partially
hollowed out. During the finu
weather the cooking is done at
a camp-fire in the court-yard,
but in winter at the huge hearth
in the shanty. A large log hol-
lowed into a trough catches rain
water, while for culinary pur-
poses a spring near at hand
suffices.

On the walls of the stable one
will see, perchance, stretched
out, dried by the sun, stained by
the weather and torn by the
wind, the skins of several pole-
cats, weasels, and other vermin —
evidence of the prowess of the
stable boys and a warning of the
fate which awaits all similar de-
predators— just as the Danish
pirates, when captured by the
Saxons, were flayed and their
skin nailed to the church doors,
as a symbol of the stern justice
meted out in the da'v.s of the
Heptarchy.

The camp is soon a scene of
activity. The stores are safely
housed and padlocked. Each
workman stores away his " kit"

under his berth or on a shelf or peg above it. Axes are
sharpened on a large grindstone, and when necess'' ^ utted
with new helves, and everyone is prepared for a winter

In the Pine Forest.

396

TREE FELLING.

campaign against the serried array of forest veterans. Such
are the general arrangements adopted for carrying out the
great national industry of Canada — an industry in which more
capital is employed l;han in any other branch of business, and
from which a greater annual revenue is derived.

The stately trunks rise like a pillared colonnade, " each fit to
be the mast of some high admiral." The pine needles make an
elastic carpet under foot, and the bright sunlight streams down
through the openings of the forest, flecking the ground with

LoADiNO Logs.

patches of gold. The stalwart axemen select each his antago-
nist in this life-and-death duel with the ancient monarchs of
the forest. The scanty brushwood is cleared. The axes gleam
brightly in the air. The measured strokes fall thick and fast,
awaking strange echoes in the dim and distant forest aisles.
The white chips fly through the air, and ghastly wounds gape
in the trunks of the ancient pines. Now a venerable forest
chief shivers through all his branches, sways for a moment in
incertitude, like blind Ajax fighting with his unseen foe, then.

•PWB

LOGGING.

397

with a shuddering groan, totters and reels crashing down,
shaking the earth and air in his fall. As he lies there, a pros-
trate giant that had wrestled with the storms of a hundred
winters, felled by the hand of man in a single hour, the act
seems a sort of tree murder.

The fallen trees are cut into logs of suitable length by huge
saws worked by couples cf brawny sawyers. When the snow
falls these are drawn to the river side by sturdy teams of oxen.
The logs are loaded on the sleds by being rolled up an inclined
plane formed by a pair of " skids," as shown in the engraving"
on opposite page. A stout chain is
attached to the sled and passed around
the log, and a pair of oxen tug at the
other end of the chain till the un-
wieldy mass,
sometimes it
weighs nearly
a ton, is haul-
ed on to the
sled. This
heavy work,
as may be sup-
posed, is not
without dan-

LoAuiNO Loos WITH Cant-hooks.

ger:

and now

and then serious accidents occur, when only the rude surgery of
the foreman or " boas " is available. Lighter logs are rolled up
with cant-hooks, as shown in the smaller engraving on this
page.

AUTUMN IN CANADA.

That beautiful season, the Canadian autumn, passes rapidly
by. The air is warm and sunny and exhilarating by day
though cool by night. The fringe of hardwood trees along the
river's bank, touched by the early frost as if by an enchanter's
wand, is changed to golden and scarlet and crimson of countless
shades, and, in the transmitted sunlight, gleams with hues of
vivid brilliancy. The forest looks like Joseph in his coat of

398

DYING SUMMER.

many colours, or like a mediajval herald, the vaunt-courier of
the winter, with his tabard emblazoned with gules and gold.

Then the autumnal gusts career like wild bandits through
the woods, anil wrestle with the gorgeous-t'oliaged trees, and
despoil them of their gold, and leave them stripped naked and
bare, to shiver in the wintry blast. In their wild and prodigal
glee they whirl the stolen gold in lavish largess through the
air, and toss it contemptuously aside to accumulate in drifts in
the forest aisles, and in dark eddies by the river side. Then
the gloomy sky lowers, and the sad rains weep, and the winds,
as if stricken with remorse, vail a requiem for the dead and
perished flowers.

But there comes a short season of reprieve before stern
winter asserts his sway. A soft golden haze, like the aureole
round the head of a saint in Tintoretto's pictures, tills the air.
The sun swings lower and lower in the sky and views the earth
with a pallid gleam. But the glory of the sunsets increase,
and the delicate intricacy of the leafless trees is relieved against
the glowing wester.i sky, like a coral grove bathing its branches
in a crimson sea.

Clouds of wild pigeons wing their way in wheeling squadrons
through the air, at times almost darkening the sun. The
weJge-shaped fleets of wild geese steer ever southward, and
their strange wild clang falls from the clouds by night like the
voice of spiiits from the sky. The melancholy cry of the
loons and solitary divers is heard, and long whirring flights of
wild ducks rise from the water in the dim and misty dawn to
continue their journey from the lonely Northern lakes and far-
eft' shores of Hudson's Bay to the genial Southern marshes and
meres — piloted by that unerring Guide who feedeth the young
ravens when they cry and giveth to the beasts of the earth
their portion of meat in due season.

The squirri;ls have laid up their winter store of acorns and
beech-nuts and may be seen whisking their bushy tails around
the bare trunks of the trees. The partridges drum in the woods
and the quails pipe in the open glades. The profusion of
feathered game gives quite a flavour of luxury to the meals of
the lumbermen.

Canadian Autumn,

'TT

400

THE DYING SUMMER.

A charming American poet has given us an exquisite picture
af this beautiful season :

I love to wander through the woodlands hoary

In the soft light of an Autumnal day,
When Summer gathers up her robes of glory,

And like the dream of beauty glides away.

How in each loved, familiar path she lingers,

Serenely smiling through the golden mist,
Tinting the wild-grape with her dewy fingers.

Till the cool emerald turns to amethyst.

Warm lights are on the sleepy uplands waning,

Beneath soft clouds along the horizon rolled, •

Till the slant sunbeams thro' their fringes raining.
Bathe all the hills in melancholy gold.

The little birds upon the hill-side lonely

Flit noiselessly along from spray to spray ;
Silent as a sweet wandering thought, that only

Shows its bright wings and softly glides away.

The scentless flowers in the warm sunlight dreaming.

Forget to breathe their fulness of delight,
And through the tranced woods soft airs are streaming.

Still as the dew-fall of the summer night.

The writer has endeavoured imperfectly to depict the exqui-
site loveliness of our Canadian autumn in the following lines :

Still stand the trees in the soft hazy light,

Bathing their branches in the ambient air ;

The hush of beauty breatheth everywhere :
In crimson robes the forests all are dight.
Autumn flings forth his banner in the field,

Blazoned with heraldry of gules and gold ;

In dyes of blood his garments all are rolled,
The gory stains of war are on his shield.
Like some frail, fading girl, her death anear.

On whose fair cheek blooms bright the hectic ros%
So burns the wan cheek of the dying year,

With beauty brighter than the summer knows ;
And, like a martyr, 'mid ensanguined fires,
Enwrapped in robes of flame he now expires.

THE WANING YEAR,

Like gallant courtiers, the forest trees

Flaunt in their crimson robes with 'broiclered gold ;

And, like a king in royal purple's fold,
The oak flings largess to the beggar breeze.
Forever burning, ever unconsumed,

Like the strange poi-tent of the prophet's bush.

The autumn flames amid a sacred hush ;
The forest glory never brighter bloomed.
Upon the lulled and drowsy atmosphere

Falls faint and low the far-off' muffled stroke
Of woodman's axe, the school-boy's ringing cheer.

The watch-dog's bay, and crash of falling oak ;
And gleam the apples through the orchard trees,
Like golden fruit of the Hesperides.

40]

But one morning, perchance, late in November, a strange
stillness seems to have fallen on the camp. Not a sound floats
to the ear. A deep muffled silence broods over all things.
The outer world seems transfigured. The whole earth is
clothed in robes of spotless white, " so as no fuller on earth can
white them," like a bride adorned for her husband. Each twig
and tree is wreathed with " ermine too dear for an earl." The
stables and sheds are roofed as with marble of finest Carrara,
carved into curving drifts with fine sharp ridges by the
delicate chiselling of the wind. A spell seems brooding over allj

Silence, silence everywhere —
On the earth and on the air ;

and out of the infinite bosom of the sky the feathery silence
continues to float down.

The lumbering operations are carried on with increased vigour
during the winter season. War is waged with redoubled zeal
upon the forest veterans, which, wrapping their dark secrets
in their breasts and hoary with their covering of snow, look
venerable as Angelo's marble-limbed Hebrew seer. When
beneath repeated blows of the axe, like giants stung to death
by gnats, they totter and fall, the feathery flakes fly high in
air, and the huge trunks are half buried in the drifts. Then,
sawn into logs or trimmed into spars, they are dragged with
much shouting and commotion by the straining teams to the
26

402

A WOLF STORY.

:\^^

river brink, or out on its frozen surface, as shown in thrj
engraving on this page, to be carried down by the spring
freshets toward their distant destination.

Drawing Loos on the Ice.

AN ADVENTURE WITH WOLVES.

The following winter adventure in a lumberman's life, several
years ago, is also quoted from the author's "Lawrence Temple:"

In the month of March, when the snow lay deep upon the
ground, a messenger was despatched by the " boss " lumberman
to Ottawa, a distance of some two hundred miles, to report to
the agent of the Company the quantity of timber that had
been got out and to bring back from the bank a sum of money
to pay off a number of the lumbermen. Owing to a prejudice
on the part of the men against paper money, he was directed
to procure gold and silver. He was to ride as far as the town of

A WILD RIDE.

403

vn in tho
the spring

few

ife, several
ce Temple:"
) upon the
lumberman
o report to
that had
oa of money

a prejudice
?as directed
the town of

Pembroke, about half way, and leaving his horse there to rest,
was to go on to Ottawa in the stage. He selected for the
journey the best animal in the stable — a tall, gaunt, sinewy
mare of rather ungainly figure, but with an immense amount of
go in her.

Having drawn the money from the bank, chiefly in English
sovereigns and Mexican dollars, he set out on his return journey.
At Pembroke he mounted again his faithful steed for his ride
of over a hundred miles to the camp. The silver he carried in
two leathern bags in the holsters of the saddle, and the gold in
a belt around his waist. He also carried for defence a heavy
Colt's revolver. Toward the close of the second day he was
approaching the end of his journey. The moon was near the
full, but partially obscured by light and fleecy clouds.

He was approaching a slight clearing when he observed two
long, lithe animals spring out of the woods towards his horse.
He thought they were a couple of those large shaggy deer-
hounds which are sometimes employed near the lumber camps
for hunting cariboo — great powerful animals with immense
length of limb and depth of chest — and looked around for the
appearance of the hunter, who, he thought, could not be far off".
He was surprised, however, not to hear the deep-mouthed bay
characteristic of these hounds, but instead a guttural snarl
which, nevertheless, appeared to affect the mare in a most
unaccountable manner. A shiver seemed to convulse her frame,
and shaking herself together she started off on a long swinging
trot, which soon broke ,into a gallop that got over the ground
amazingly fast. But her best speed could not outstrip that of
the creatures which bounded in long leaps by her side, occasion-
ally springing at her haunches, their white teeth glistening in
the moonlight, and snapping when they closed like a steel trap.

When he caught the first glimpse of the fiery flashing of their
eyes there came the blood-curdling revelation that these were
no hounds but hungry wolves that bore him such sinister
company. All the dread hunters' tales of lone trappers lust in
the woods and their gnawed bones discovered in the spring
beside their steel traps, flashed through his mind like a thought
of horror. His only safety he knew was in the speed of his

104

HANDICAPPED.

mare, and she was handicapped in this race for life with aboub
five-and-twenty pounds of silver in each holster. Seeing that
she was evidently flagging under the tremendous pace, he
resolved to abandon the money. " Skin for skin, yea, all that a
man hath will he give for his life ;" so he dropped both bags
on the road. To his surprise the animals stopped as if they
had been only highwaymen seeking merely his money and not
his life. He could hear them snarling over the stout leather
bags, but lightened of her load the mare sprang forward in a
splendid hand gallop that covered the ground in gallant style.

He was beginning to hope that he had fairly distanced the
brutes, when their horrid yelp and melancholy long-drawn
howl grew stronger on the wind, and soon they were again
abreast of the mare. He now threw down his thick leather
gauntlets with the hope of delaying them, but it only caused a
detention of a few minutes while they greedily devoured them.
He was rapidly nearing the camp ; if he could keep them at
bay for twenty or thirty minutes more he would be safe. As a
last resort he drew his revolver, scarce hoping in his headlong
pace to hit the bounding, leaping objects by his side. More-
over, they had both hitherto kept on the left side of the mare,
which lessened his chance as a marksman. The mare, too, who
was exceedingly nervous, could never stand fire ; and if he
should miss, and in the movement be dismounted, he knew that
in five minutes the maw of those ravenous beasts would be his
grave.

One of the brutes now made a spring for the horse's throaty
but failing to grasp it, fell on the right side of the animal.
Gathering himself up he bounded in front of her and made a
dash at the rider, catching and clinging to the mare's right
shoulder. The white foam fell from his mouth and flecked his
dark and shaggy breast. The rider could feel his hot breath
on his naked hand. The fiendish glare of those eyes he never
in all his life forgot. It haunted him for years in midnight
slumbers, from which he awoke trembling and bathed in the
cold perspiration of terror. He could easily have believed the
weird stories of lycanthropy, in which Satanic agency was
feigned to have changed men for their crimes into were-wolves

"3'W»»'tsrrT«'?i?7'K«->

WERE-WOLVES.

405

— ravenous creatures who added human or fiendish passion and
malignancy of hate to the bestial appetite for human flesh.
If ever there was rriurder in a glance, it was in that of those
demon-eyes, which seemed actually to blaze with a baleful
greenish light — a flame of inextinguishable rage.

The supreme moment had come. One or other must die.
In Ave minutes more the man would be safe in the camp or else
be a mangled corpse. He lifted up his heart in prayer to God,
and then felt strangely calm and collected. The muzzle of his
revolver almost touched the brute's nose. He pulled the
trigger. A flash, a crash — the green eyes blazed with ten-fold
fury, the huge form fell heavily to the ground, and in the same
moment the mare reared almost upright, nearly unseating her
rider and shaking his pistol from his hand, and then plunging
forward^ rapidly covered the road in her flight The other
famishing beast remained to devour its fellow. He galloped
into the camp, almost fell from his mare, which stood with a
look of human gladness in her eyes, and staggered to the rude
log shanty, where the blazing fire and song and story beguiled
the winter night, scarce able to narrate his peril and escape.
After light refreshment, for he had lost all relish for food, he
went to bed to start up often in the night under the glare of
those terrible eyes, and to renew the horror he had undergone.

In the morning, returning with a number of the men to look
for the money, he found the feet, tail, muzzle and scalp of the
slain wolf in the midst of a patch of gory snow, also the skull
and part of the larger bones, but gnawed and split in order to
get at the marrow. And such, thought the messenger, would
have been his fate but for the merciful Providence by which he
was preserved. They found also, some distance back, the straps
and buckles of the money-bags, and the silver coins scatterde
on the grdund and partially covered by the snow.

Such were some of the perils to which the early pioneers of
Canada were exposed in their exploration and travel through
the well-nigh pathless wilderness. Indeed, for some time after
the partial settlement of the country, on lonely post routes the
solitary mail- carrier found himself not unfrequently confronted
by savage wolf or bear.

406

SHOOTING THE RAPIDS.

A LOO JAM.

At last the spring comes to the lumber camp. The days
grow long and bright and warm. The ice on the river becomes
sodden and water-logged, or breaks up into great cakes beneath
the rising water. The snow on the upland rapidly melts away,
and the utmost energy is employed in getting down the logs to
the river before it entirely disappears. The harsh voice of the
blue jay is heard screaming in the forest, and its bright form
is seen flitting about in the sunlight. The blithe note of the
robin rings through the air. A green flush creeps over the
trees, and then suddenly they burgeon out into tender leafage.
The catkins of the birch and maple shower down upon the
ground. A warm south wind blows, bringing on its wings a
copious rain. The rivers rise several feet in a single night.
Perchance a timber boom breaks with the strain upon it, and
thousands of logs go racing and rushing, like maddened herds
of sea-horses, down the stream. Generally the heavy boom
below holds firm, and they are all retained. Occasionally a log
jam occurs, such as is described as follows :

It is a grand and exciting sight to see the logs shooting the
rapids. As they glide out of the placid water above, they are
drawn gradually into the swifter rush of the river. They
approach a ledge where, in unbroken glassy current, the stream
pours over the rock. On they rush, and, tilting quickly up on
end, make a plunge like a diver into the seething gulf below.
After what seems to the spectator several minutes' submergence,
they rise with a bound partially above the surges, struggling
* like a strong swimmer in his agony " with the stormy waves.
Now they rush full tilt against an iron rock that, mid-stream,
challenges their right to pass, and are hurled aside, shuddering,
bruised, and shattered from the encounter. Some are broken
in twain. Others are shivered into splinters. Others glide by
unscathed. Now one lodges in a narrow channel. Another
strikes and throws it athwart the stream. Then another and
another, and still others in quick succession lodge, and a formid«
able "jam " is formed. Now a huge log careers along like a
bolt from a catapult. It will surely sweep away the obstacle.
With a tremendous thud, like the blow of a battering-ram, it

a3®i'!j«SS53HSSf.SPtSS-«-f>

A JAM.

407

stiikes the mass, which quivers, grinds, groans, and apparently
yields a moment, but is faster jammed than over. The water
rapidly rises and boils and eddies with ten-fold rage. In a
short time hundreds of the logs are piled up in inextricable
confusion.

The "drivers" above have managed to throw a log across
the entrance to the rapid to prevent a further run, and now set
deliberately about loosening the "jam." With cant-hooks,
pike-poles, levers, axes and ropes, they try to roll, pry, chop, or
haul out of the way the logs which are jammed together in
a seemingly inextric-
able mass. The work
has a terribly perilous
look. The jam may
at any moment give
way, carrying every-
thing before it with
resistless force. Yet
these men, who appear
almost like midgets as
compared with its im-
mense mass, swarm
over it, pulling, tug-
ging, shoving and
shouting with the ut-
most coolness and dar-
ing. Like amphibious

animals, they wade into the rushing ice-cold water, and clamber
over the slippery logs.

Now an obstructive " stick," as these huge logs are called, is
set free. The jam creaks and groans and gives a shove, and
the men scamper to the shore. But no ; it again lodges appar-
ently as fast as ever. At work the men go again, when, lo ! a
single well-directed blow of an axe relieves the whole jam,
exerting a pressure of hundreds of tons. It is Sauve qui peut!
Each man springs to escape. The whole mass goes crashing,
grinding, groaning over the ledge.

Is everybody safe? No; one has almost got to the shore when

A Loo Jam.

408

BREAKING A JAM.

he is caught, by the heel of his iron-studded boot, between
two grinding logs. Another moment and he will be swept or
dragged down to destruction. A stalwart raftsman, not without
imminent personal risk, springs forward and catches hold of his
outstretched hands. Another throws his arms around the body
of the second, and bracing himself against a rock they all give
a simultaneous pull and the imprisoned foot is relieved. And
well it is so, for at that moment the whole wrack goes rushing
by. The entire occurrence has taken only a few seconds.
These lumbermen need to have a quick eye, firm nerves, and

Brkakinq a Lou Jam.

)i often to hang on

strong thews and sinews, for their lives see;
a hair.

But what is that lithe and active figure dancing down the
rapids on a single log, at the taiJ of the jam ? It is surely no
one else than Baptiste la Tour, the French shantynian. How
he got there no one knows. He hardly knows himself. But
there he is, gliding down with arrowy swiftness on a log that
is spinning round under his feet with extraordinary rapidity.
With the skill of an acrobat or rope-dancer he preserves his
balance, by keeping his feet, arms, legs, and whole body in
constant motion, the spikes in his boots preventing his slipping.

PVELL STEERED, BAPTISrE.

409

So long as the log is in deep water and keeps clear of rocks
and other logs he is comparatively safe.

But see! he will surely run on that jutting crag! Nearer
and nearer he approaches ; now for a crash and a dangerous
leap ! But no ! he veers off, the strong back-wash of the water
preventing the collision. Now the log plunges partly beneath
the waves, but by vigorous struggles he keeps his place on its
slippery surface. Now his log runs full tilt against another.
The shock of the collision shakes him from his feet ; he staggers
and slips into the water, but in a moment he is out and on his
unmanageable steed again. As he glides out into the smooth
water below the rapids a ringing cheer goes up from his com-
rades, who have been watching with eager eyes his perilous ride.
They had not cheered when the jam gave way, ending their
two hours' strenuous effort. But at Baptiste's safety, irrepres-
sibly their shouts burst forth. With the characteristic grace
of his countrymen, he returns the cheer by a polite bow, and
seizing a floating handspike that had been carried down with
the wrack, he paddles toward the shore. As he nears it he
springs from log to log till he stands on solid ground. Shaking
himself like a Newfoundland dog, he strides up the bank to
receive the congratulations of his comrades.

RAFTING.

Each log in these " drives " bears the brand of its owner, and
they float on together, to be arrested by the huge boom, and
there sorted out to their several owners. The long spars and
square timber intended for exportation are made up into
" drams," as they are called. These consist of a number of
"sticks" of pine, oak, elm, or ash, lashed side by side. They
are kept together by means of " traverses " or cross pieces, to
which the " sticks " are bound by stout withes of ironwood or
hickory, made supple by being first soaked in water and then
twisted in a machine and wound around an axle, by which
means the fibres are crushed and rendered pliable. The "drams"
are made just wide enough to run through the timber slides.
On the long, smooth reaches of the river they are fastened
together so as to make a large raft, which is impelled on its

410

RAFTING.

way by the force of the current, assisted by huge oars, and,
when the wind is favourable, by sails. In running the rapids,
or going through the slides, the raft is again separated into its
constituent "drams." On the "cabin dram" is built the cook's
shanty, with its stores of pork, bread, and biscuit. When all
is ready the raft is loosed from its moorings, and with a cheer
from the men, glides down the stream. It is steered by huge
" sweeps " or oars, about twelve yards long. The crew are, of

i"^??^;'':^;*^^'. ---

Down at the Booh.

course, delighted at the prospect of returning to the precincts
of civilization, though to many of them that means squandering
their hard-earned wages in pi'odigal dissipation and riot.

The voyage down the river is generally uneventful but not
monotonous. The bright sunlight and pure air seem to exhila-
rate like wine. The raftsmen dance and caper and sing " En
roulant ma boule," and

" Ah ! que I'hiver est long!
Dans les chantiers nous hivemerons 1 "

Running the rapids is an exciting episode not devoid of a

RUNNING THE RAPIDS.

411

spice of danger. With the increasing swiftness of the current
the water assumes a glazed or oily appearance. Objects on the
shore fly backward more rapidly. The oars at bow and stern
are more heavily manned. Right ahead are seen the white
seething "boilers" of the rapids. With a rush the dram
springs forward and plunges into the breakers which roar like

Rafting on the SIattawa.

sea monsters for their prey. The waves break over in snowy
foam. The shock knocks half the men off their feet. They
catch hold of the traverse to avoid being washed overboard.
The dram shudders throughout all its timbers, and the withes
groan and creak as if they would burst asunder under the
strain. The brown rocks gleam through the waves as they
flash past. Soon the dram glides out into smooth water. The

412

LAKE NIPISSING.

white-crested billows race behind like horrid monsters of Scylla,
gnashing their teeth in rage at the escape of their prey.

The great caldron of the Chandifere, in which the strongest
dram would be broken like matchwood, is passed by means of
the Government timber slides — long sloping canals, with timber
sides and bottoms, down which the drams glide with immense
rapidity. Sometimes they jam with a fearful collision. But
such accidents are rare.

This is the way Canada's great timber harvest seeks the sea.
A.t Quebec the rafts are broken up and the "sticks" are hauled
through timber ports in the bows of the vessels that shall bear
it £0 the markets of the Old World. (See cut of Wolfe's Cove).

ACROSS THE CONTINENT.

I must, however, return from this lumber episode to the
account of the overland trip to the Pacific. After following for
several hours the Upper Ottawa and its important confluent,
the Mattawa, at nine o'clock in the morning we reach North
Bay, on Lake Nipissing. So calm and bright and beautiful is
the outlook that it might be taken for Biloxi Bay, in the Gulf
of Mexico, two thousand miles south, if one could substitute
the feathery palmettoes for the white-barked birches. Through
this very lake, two hundred and fifty years ago, the first Jesuit
missionaries made their way, having toiled up the Ottawa and
the Mattawa, and made thirty-five portages around the rapids
of these rivers. From Lake Nipissing they glided down the
French River — whose name still commemorates their exploit —
to Lake Huron, and then through Lake Superior to the far
west. " Not a river was entered, not a cape was turned," says
Bancroft, " but a Jesuit led the way." They have left their
footprints, in the names of lake, and stream, and mountains, all
over the west and north-west of the continent.

Trains from Toronto now come directly north to Lake Nipis-
sing, through Barrie, Orillia, and Bracebridge, thus saving the
long cUtour round by Carleton Junction.

We are here transferred to the magnificent sleeping-car
"Yokohama," running through from Montreal to the Pacific
Coast. It is the most sumptuous car in which I ever rode.

LUXURY OF TRAVEL.

413

Its easy cushions and upholstery and bath-room seem to war-
rant the reported remarks of a Royal Prince and a Duke : "I'm
not used to such luxury," said the Prince to the Duke; "No
more am I," said the Duke
to the Prince. One has |j
need of every comfort he
can procure during the
long week's journey in
which the car h^ecomes his
travelling home. Through
most of the route an ele-

In a Canadian Pacific Railway
Sleeping Car.

gant dining- tjar is attached
tc the tiuin, where one can
have all the luxuries of an
hotel — soup, fish, three or
four courses, entrees and des-
sert— for seventy-five cents.
At Sudbury Junction a branch road diverges to Algoma on
Lake Huron, and is now completed to Sault Ste. Marie and
on to St. Paul, thus providing the American Great West with
an almost air line to the Atlantic seaboard. This must divert

4>U

A STERILE REGION,

a large amount of traffic which now goes via Chicago and
south of the lakes. At Sudbury much business activity was
exhibited, on account of the copper mines in its vicinity, said
to be unusually rich and easy of access. It is well that there
is some wealth beneath the surface, for there is not much above.
The country has a dreadfully sterile and stony look. Even the
telegraph poles have to be built around with stones to support
them. All along the road are abandoned construction-camps,
roofless, windowless log-houses, not long since occupied by the
brigades of railway navvii built this highway of civiliza-

tion through the wilderness. i corduroy construction-roads

are in many places still used for local travel.

Yet there are frequently arable tracts in this long sterile
stretch, where quite a population is gathering, as also at the
divisional stations of the Canadian Pacific Railway, where there
must of necessity be a round-house, repairing-shops, and a
considerable number of railway employees. The following
extracts from an account of t»iis region by the Rev. Silas Hunt-
ington, will be read with interest :

" The new field, which is to me an object of great solicitude,
embraces a narrow strip of territory lying along the Canadian
Pacific Railway from the Sturgeon to the Capasaesing Rivers —
a distance of two hundred and thirty-four miles. It is occupied
by a mixed adult population, numbering between two thousand
five hundred and three thousand souls, who are variously dis-
tributed over its entire length, but mainly located in groups
around the chief centres of traffic. Some are employed as
miners, mill-men and timber-makers, and some of them are
connected with the railway as officers, artizans and labourers.
Protestants and Roman Catholics are about equal in number.
During the time that the railway was under construction,
thousands of every nationality and religious persuasion, how-
ever piously they may have been taught and trained, cast off
all religious restraint and became wholly demoralized. A few
godly men and women remained faithful to God and to their
own souls, and these still compose the van in the work of
evangelism. At Sturgeon Falls, Sudbury, Cartier and Chapleau,
they have formed the nuclei of living churches.

A PIONEER MISSIONARY.

415

" Sturgeon Falls is a thriving village of four hundred inhabi-
tants, pleasantly situated on the banks of the Sturgeon River,
quite near to Lake Nipissing. It is surrounded by excellent
farming lands and pine forests. Sudbury possesses, at the
present time, four hundred inhabitants, with the prospect of a
very numerous population in the near future, owing to the
extensive mining industries which are being developed in its
vicinity. Cartier is a divisional station on the Canadian Pacific
Railway, forty miles west of Sudbury. It possesses only a
small resident population of railway officers and employees.
Chapleau is a village of five hundred inhabitants, situated one
hundred and twenty-five miles west of Cartier. The hospital
of the Eastern Division, with its stu, ■• of medical men and
surgeons, is likewise located here, as is also the headquarters of
the Company's staflT of engineers and surveyors. The Hudson's
Bay Company has an important post established at this point,
in connection with which I have found a band of Indians,
numbering seventy-two souls, who were converted from pagan-
ism at Michipicoton, over twenty years ago, under the labours of
the late Rev. George McDougall. They claim to be Methodists,
and through all these years, although separated from the body
of their tribe, they have kept their faith and maintained their
religious worship without the aid of a missionary.

" After leaving Sturgeon Falls, you may journey through the
entire length and breadth of the region which I have described,
and you will not discover a place of worship belonging to any
Protestant denomination, and only one belonging to the Roman
Catholics. I have preached in private houses — or, more properly
speaking, 'shanties' — in railway stations, in boarding-houses,
in cars, in the jail, and in the open air, but such places are not
suitable for our evangelistic work, and often they are not
available owing to the crowded state of all habitable buildings.
I have tried to supply the want arising from the absence of
suitable places of worship, by providing a portable tent large
enough to contain eighty or one hundred persons."*

♦Since this was written, by the indefatigable efforts of Mr. Huntington,
some five or six churches have been erected in the region above described.

416

A CANADIAN CORNICHE.

THE NORTH SHORE.

Early in the morning we strike Lake Superior at Heron
Bay. For two hundred miles we skirt its shores. Great pro-
montories run out from the mountain background into the lake,
which makes striking indentations in the land. At one of
these, Jackfish Bay, the opposite sides are within a quarter of a
mile, yet the road has to run three miles round to make that
distance. So sinuous is it that it runs seven miles to make a
mile and a quarter. In marching across the snow and slush of
this and other gaps in the road, during the late North- West
rebellion, our volunteer troops suffered extreme hardships.
The broad views over the steel blue lake remind me of those
over the Gulf of Genoa from the famous Corniche road. One
gets an almost bird's-eye view of the winding shore and many
islands of the lake. These are chiefly of basaltic origin, and
.rise at their western ends in steep escarpments from the water.
So close are some of these cliffs that their columnar structure,
like gigantic castle walls built by Titan hands, painted with
bright lichen, and stained and weathered with the storms
of ten thousand winters, is clearly discernible. The grandest
example of this structure is Thunder Cape, rising nearly one
thousand four hundred feet above the lake.

The entire north shore of Lake Superior gives evidence of
energetic geological convulsion* The convulsions seem to have
been greatest in the neighbourhood of Nipigon and Thunder
Bays. Here the scenery, therefore, is of the most magnificent
description, and of a stern and savage grandeur not elsewhere
found. Nipigon Bay extends for nearly a hundred miles be-
tween a high barrier of rocky islands and the mainland. I was
a passenger, nearly twenty years ago, on the first Canadian
steamer — the old Algoma — that ever entered the River Nipigon.
A sen.se of utter loneliness bmoded over these then solitary
waters. In all these hundred miles I saw not a single human
habitation nor a human being save three squalid Indians in a
bark canoe. At the western entrance of the channel rises
Fluor Island, to the height of a thousand feet, like the Genius
of the rocky pass arising from the sullen deep. At the mouth
of the Nipigon River the mountains gather around on every

THE NIPIGON.

417

a
ses
ius
th

side in a vast amphitheatre, like ancient Titans sitting in
solemn conclave on their solitary thrones. For from their
rocky pulpits, more solemnly than any human voice, they pro-
claim man's insignificance and changefulness amid the calm and
quiet changelessness of nature.

When the sun goes down in golden splendour, and the deep-
ening shadows of the mountains creep across the glowing waves,
in the long purple twilight of these northern regions a tender
pensiveness falls upon the spirit. The charm of solitude is over
all, and the coyness of primeval nature is felt. It seems, as
Milton remarks, like treason against her gentle sovereignty not
to seek out those lovely scenes.

The captain of the steamer determined to give us a good
view of the famous Red Rock near the mour:: of the Nipigon,
and sailed close beneath it. But he sailed so close that we ran
hard upon a sand-bar, and had ample opportunity all day
long to study its lichen-painted front. The sailors made
strenuous efforts to float the steamer by shifting the cargo and
using long spars to pry her off the bar, but all in vain. Towards
evening the wind veered round and blew up the river, raising
the level of its waters sufficiently to float the steamer, and we
went on our way rejoicing. The soundings are now well known,
and no such danger need be feared.

At Thunder Bay we reach the. rival towns of Port Arthur
and Fort William, with their gigantic elevators and great docks
and breakwater, both destined doubtless to become part of one
great city. On the occasion of my first visit there was not
even a wharf, and passengers had to get ashore in boats and
the freight was landed by means of rafts. Now there are
streets of good stores and handsome houses and the auguries
of great growth and prosperity.

Thunder Bay is a grand expanse of water, twenty-five miles
in length, fifteen to twenty-five in width, in shape almost
circular, and hemmed in on all sides by mountains, bluff head-
lands, and island peaks. On entering, to the right is Thunder
Cape, a remarkable and bold highland, standing out into the
lake; the sheer cliff rises perpendicularly 1,350 feet above the
water, the formation having in many places a basaltic appear-
27

«Le

THUNDER CAPE.

ance. Above it almost always hovers a cloud, and in times of
storms the cape appears to be the centre of the full fury of the
thunder and lightning, hence the great awe in which it is held
by the Indians, and the name they have given it

To the south-west is seen McKay's Mountain, above Fort
William, and further to the left is the peculiarly shaped Pie
Island, resembling a gigantic pork pie, about eight hundred
feet in height, and of similar basaltic formation to that of
Thunder Cape, on the otuer side of the entrance.

FORT WILLIAM.

419

Fort William, at the time when I first saw it, was about as
unmilitary-looking a place as it is possible to conceive. Instead
of bristling with ramparts and cannon, and frowning defiance
at the world, it quietly nestled, like a child in its mother's lap,
at the foot of McKay's Mountain, which loomed up grandly
behind it. A picket fence surrounded eight or ten acres of
land, within which were a large stone store-house, the residence
of thfe chief factor, and several dwelling-houses for the em-
ployees. At a little distance was the Indian mission of the
Jesuit fathers. A couple of rusty cannon were the only war-
like indications visible. Yet the aspect of the place was not

Sai2g^

McKay's Mountain.

always so peaceful, A strong stockade once surrounded the
post, and stone block-houses furnished protection to its de-
fenders. It was long the stronghold of the North-West
Company, whence they waged vigorous war against the rival
Hudson's Bay Company. In its grand banquet chamber the
annual feasts and councils of the chief factors were held, and
alliances formed with the Indian tribes. Thence were issued
the decrees of the giant monopoly which exercised a sort of
feudal sovereignty from Labrador to Charlotte's Sound, from
the United States boundary to Russian America. Thither
came the plumed and painted sons of the forest to barter their
furs for the knives and guns of Sheffield and Birmingham and

420

DR. SCHULTZ' F. SCAPE.

the gay fabrics of Manchester and Leeds, and to smoke the pipe
of peace with their white allies. Those days have passed away.
Paint and plumes are seen only in the far interior, and the furs
are mostly collected far from the forts by a^^ents of the Com-
pany.

About thirty miles up the Kamanistiquia are the Kakabeka
Falls. The river here, one hundred and fifty yards wide,
plunges sheer down one hundred and thirty feet. The scenery
is of majestic grandeur, which, when better known, will make

,._ this snot a favour-
'^\ ite resort of the
tourist and the
lover of the pic-
turesque.

The four „un-
dred and thirty
miles' journey be-
tween Thunder
Bay and Winni-
peg lies chiefly
through a very
broken country,
full of connected
lakes and rivers,
picturesque with
every combination
of rocks, tumbling
waters and quak-
ing "muskeg."
Through this wild region Dr. Schultz, now the popular Lieu-
tenant-Governor of Manitoba, after escaping from imprison-
ment by Kiel during the first North- West Rebellion, made his
way on foot, and amid incredible hardships which seriously
undermined his health. What an irony of fate that the usurper
now lies in an unknown grave, while his qiumdam, victim
occupies the highest position in the land.

Here are, explorers say, much good land and valuable timber
limits and rich mineral deposits. At Rat Portage the scenery

Kakabeka Faixs.

ill

SPOHrSMAN'S PARADISE.

is of remarkable beauty, as it is said to be all through the

region of the Lake of

the Woods and other

parts of what was till

lately known as "the

disputed territory."

Our engraving will in-

On Lake of the Woods.

dicate in part the
varied beauty of the
landscape. This re-
gion, now compara-
tively unknown, is
destined to be a
favourite resort of
sportsmen and sum-
mer tourists. Hat
Portage has grown to be a place of considerable importance.

SStaxr^i'i':^'''*""'''''^'**'*^'''**''''^''*

ka^MMiall

MANITOBA.

423

MAI^ITOBA.

BEFORE we enter the great Province of Manitoba and
the Canadian North-West it will be well to summarize
their general character. Many of the following statements are
abridged from reliable information furnished by the Canadian
Government, and are in large part quoted verbatim.

The Province of Manitoba is situated in the very centre of
the continent, being midway between the Atlantic and Pacific
Oceans on the east and west, and the Arctic Ocean and Gulf of
Mexico on the north and south.

The southern frontier of Manitoba is a little to the south of
Paris, and the line being continued would pass through the
south of Germany. Manitoba has the same summer suns as that
favoured portion of Europe. The contiguous territory, includ-
ing the great Saskatchewan and Peace River regions, is the
equivalent of both the empires of Russia and Germany on the
continent of Europe. To use the eloquent words of Lord
Dufferin : " Manitoba may be regarded as the keystone of that
mighty arch of sister provinces which spans the continent from
the Atlantic to the Pacific. Canada, the owner of half a con-
tinent, in the magnitude of her possessions, in the wealth of her
resources, in the sinews of her material might, is peer of any
power on the earth."

The summer mean temperature of Manitoba is 67° to 76",
which is about the same a% the State of New York. But in
winter the thermometer sinks to 30° and 40° and sometimes 50°
below zero. The atmosphere, however, is very bright and dry,
and the sensation of cold is not so unpleasant as that of a
temperature at the freezing point in a humid atmosphere.

Manitoba and the North-West Territory of Canada are among
the absolutely healthiest countries on the globe, and most
pleasant to live in. There is no malaria, and there are no

424

SOIL AND CLIMATE.

diseases arising out of, or peculiar to, either the orovince or the
climate.

The climatic drawbacks arex>ccasIonal storms and " blizzards/'
and there are sometimes summer frosts. But the liability to
these is not greater than in many parts of Canada or the United
States as far south as New York. Indeed, these blizzards have
been far more severe in Dakota, far to the south of Manitoba,
than they have ever been known in the province.

Very little snow falls om the prairies, the average dept'i being
about eighteen inches, and buffaloes and the native horses graze
out of doors all winter. The snow disappears and ploughing

An Immior.\jnx Tkain

begins from the first to the lutter end of April, a fortnight
earlier than in the Ottawa region.

The soi. is a rich, deep, black argillaceous mould or loam,
resting on a deep and very tenacious clay subsoil. It i.s among
the richest soils in the world, if not the richest, and is especi-
ally adapted to the growth of wheat. Analyses by chemists in
Scotland and Germany have established this fact. The soil is
so I'.ch that it does not require the addition of manure for years
after the first breaking of the prairie, and in particular places
where the black loam is very deep it is practically inexhaustible.

All the cereals grow and ripen in great abundance. Wheat

PRODUCTS.

425

is especially adapted both to the soil and climate. The wheat
grown is ^ery heavy, being from sixty-two to sixty-six pounds
per bushel ; the average yield, with fair farming, being twenty-
five bushels to the acre. There are much larger yields reported,
but there are also smaller, the latter being due to defecti%'e
farminor.

Potatoes and all kinds of field and garden roots grow to
large size and in great abundance. Tomatoes and melons ripen
in the open air. Hops and flax are at home on the prairies.
All the small fruits, such as currants, strawberries, raspberries,
etc., are found in abundance. But it is not yet established that
the country is adapted for the apple or pear. These fruits,
however, grow at St. Paul ; and many think they v/ill in
Manitoba.

For grazing and cattle raising the facilities are unbounded.
The prairie grasses are nutritious and of illimitable abundance.
Hay is cheaply and easily made. Trees are found along the
rivers and streams, and they will grow anywhere very rapidly,
if protected from prairie fires. Wood for fuel has not been
very expensive, and preparations have been made for bringing
coal into market. Of this important mineral there are vast
beds farther west, which have been extensively brought into use.
The whole of the vast territory from the boundary to the Peace
River, about two hundred miles wide from the Kocky Moun-
tains, is a coal field.

Water is found by digging wells of moderate depth on the
prairie. The rivers and "coolies" are also available for water
supply. Rain generally falls freely during the Paring, while
the summer and autumn are generally dry.

The drawbacks to production are occasional visitations of
grasshoppers, but Senator Sutherland testified before a Parlia-
mentary Committee that he had known immunity from them
for forty years. This evil is not much feared ; but still it might
come.

Manitoba has already communication by railway with both
the Atlantic and Pacifice seaboard and v/ith all parts of the
continent; that is to say, a railway train may start from
Halifax or Quebec, after connection with the ocean steamship,

^.«w«*»w"- .»»^.»-v^:-•">~»«*'-«

RIVER SYSTEM.

427

■<

and run continuously on to Winnipeg and through the Rockies
to Vancouver on the Pacific. Numerous other railways are
chartered in the North-West, and it is believed will soon be
constructed, and a considerable extent has already been opened.

The Canadian Pacific Railway places the cereals and other
produce of Manitoba in connection with the ports of Montreal
and Quebec, as well as with the markets of the other pro-
vinces and with those of the United States. It is by far the
shortest line, with the easiest gradients, and the fewest and
easiest curves, between the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, and
constitutes the shortest and best line for travel and commerce
between Great Britain and China and Japan. This line of
railway, passing through the fertile, instead of the desert,
portion of the continent of America, constitutes one of the most
important of the highways of the world.

The river system of Manitoba and the North-West is a
striking feature of the country. A steamer can leave Winnipeg
and proceed ma, the Saskatchewan to Edmonton, near the base
of the Rocky Mountains, a distance of one thousand five hun-
dred miles ; and steamers are now plying for a rlistnnce of more
than three hundred and twenty miles on th» -iniboine, an
affluent of the Red River, which it joins at the cit^ 't' Winnipeg'.

The Red River is navigable for steamers from Moorhful, in
the United States, where it is crossed by the Northern Pacific
Railway, to Lake Winnipeg, a distance of over four hundred
miles. Lake Winnipeg is about two hundred and eighty miles
in length, affording an important navigation. The Saskatche-
wan, which takes its rise in the Rocky Mountains, enters this
lake at the northern end, and has a steamboat navigation, as
above mentioned, as far as Fort Edmonton, aflfording vast com-
mercial facilities for those great areas of fertile lands.

The settler from older countries should be careful to adapt
himself to those methods which experience of the country has
proved to be wise, rather than try to employ in a new country
those practices to which he has been accustomed at home. For
instance, with respect to ploughing, or, as it is frequently called,
"breaking" the prairie, the method in Manitoba is quite different
from that in the Old Country. The prairie is covered with a

jif^nim^'^**'!''!^*^!^'^'''''''^^'^'"

BREAKIAG THE SOD.

429

rank vegetable growth, and the question is how to subdue this.
It is especially desirable for the farmer who enters early in
the spring to put in a crop of oats on the first " breaking." It
is found by experience that the sod pulverizes and decomposes
under the influence of a growing crop (juite as effectually as
when simply turned and left by itself for that purpose, if not
more so. Large crops of oats are obtained from sowing on the
first breaking, and thus not only is the cost defrayed, but there
is a profit. It is also of great importance to a settler with
limited means to get this crop the first year. One mode of this
kind of planting is to scatter the oats on the grass and then
turn a thin sod over them. The grain thus buried quickly
finds its way through, and in a few weeks the sod is perfectly
rotten. Flax is a good crop to put in at the first breaking. It
yields well, pays well, and rapidly subdues the turned sod.

Before the prairie is broken the sod is very tough, and
requires great force to break it; but after it has once been
turned the subsequent ploughings are. very easy from the
friability of the soil, and gang ploughs may be used with ease.
On account of the great force required to break the prairie
in the first instance, there are many who prefer oxen to horses.
A pair of oxen will break an acre and a half a day, with very
little or no expense at all for feed. Mules have been found to
do very well, and they are considered well adapted for prairie
work. On the larger farms steam is beginning to be used.

Tourists may go by way of the Great Lakes to Thunder
Bay, where they will take the railway to Winnipeg ; or they
may take the all-rail route via Toronto or Ottawa to North
Bay and Winnipeg. The distance by this route is longer, but
it is continuous, and there is very little diflference in point of
time now that the railway is opened from Thunder Bay. Both
these routes are wholly within Canadian territory ; and the
settler who takes either is free from the inconvenience of all
customs examinations required on entering the United States,
or aszain on entering Manitoba from the United States.

Manitoba hardships, if they are to be called so, are nothing
to be compared with those of regions where the forest must be
hewn down before a harvest can be reaped. They are nothing

430

BORDER AMENITIES.

to those endured by our forefathers, when there was no railway
to convey in what was needed, or to carry out the surplus
product of the soil.

A rivalry, as keen and uncompromising as the old border
feuds which divided the English and the Scots into hostile
bodies, excites the citizens of the Canadian Province of Mani-
toba and the United States Territory of Dakota. Happily,
the present contest is bloodless. The relative merit of their
respective regions is the subject which is hotly and unscrupu-
lously contested in the columns of newspapers and the circu-
lars of land companies. If the allegations made on the one
side are believed, then Dakota is not a fit place for habita-
tion ; if credence be given to those on the other, then Manitoba
is an arid and Arctic wilderness. It is diificult for the impartial
spectator to side with either disputant. When Sir William
Hamilton discussed rival systems of philosophy, he expressed
the opinion that philosophers were generally right in what they
affirm and wrong in what they deny. This philosophical dictum
is applicable to the present case. So long as citizens of Manitoba
and Dakota eulogize their own province or territory they are
perfectly right, but when they proceed to disparage the neigh-
bouring province or territory they are glaringly wrong. For
many miles on either side of the boundary line, between this
part of the United States and Canada, the soil is identical in
character, with no appreciable difference in climate.

We do not hold that Manitoba is absolutely perfect ; when
describing it in these pages we .set forth its drawbacks as well
as its attractions. A country may fall far short of the ideal
form in dreams, and yet be a pleasant place to live in. It is
possible that the " summer isles of Eden, lying in dark purple
spheres of sea," imagined by the poet, may be less charming in
reality on account of the insects or venomous reptiles which
infest all accessible earthly paradises.

The farmers are as well pleased with the soil as with the
climate of Manitoba ; they declare that it is a black mould from
two feet to four feet in depth, and so rich as to produce, with-
out manure, large crops of vegetables and grain. They state
that water is abundant and good, that the finest hay can be

■L j*9tffl!j^rw=r;«*.1i»'-.>H«W^W**''"*

ENORMOUS CROPS.

431

procured with verj' little
trouble at a trifling cost;
that there is no lack of
timber; that the iniiTii-
murti yield of wheat is
nine bushels an acre in ex-
cess of the average yield
in Minnesota, and the
weight of each bushel is
1 lb. heavier ; that the
average yield of oats is 57
bushels an acre ; of barley,
40; of peas, 38; of rye, 60;
and of potatoes, " mealy
to the core," 318 bushels.
Some of the potatoes weigh
4|lbs. -

I now resume my de-
scription of the overland
journey.

Early in the morning of
the third day from Toronto
we look out of the window
ami find that the entire
character of the country
has changed. On every
side extends the broad,
level prairie, not the tree-
less plain I had been ex-
pecting— we will come to
that further on — but it is
beautifully diversified with
clumps of poplar trees, all
aflame with autumnal lires.
The name of the station
which we pass, " Beau
Sejour," reminds us that
we are passing an old

JTBWSSIW'W"''^''*'^*

M-MWWiJOiWSW "-.-'"EWBir'

THE PRAIRIE CITY.

433

■■A

(Hi

French settlenienf, to which the happy- tempered courier du
hois gave its pleasant designation in the early dawn of the
North-West exploration. Soon we cross the turbid current of
the appropriately named Red River, by the picturesque Princess
Louise Bridge, and, prompt to the minute, the train draws up
at the large and handsome station— rworthy of a metropolitan
city — of Winnipeg.

WINNIPEG.

The strongest impression made upon the tourist on his first
visit to Winnipeg is one of amazement that so young a city
should have inade such wonderful progress. Its public build-
ings, and many of its business blocks and private residences,
exhibit a solidity and magnificence of which any city in the
Dominion might be proud. The engraving facing page 42!)
gives a view of this now thriving city as it appeared in 1872,
while the one facing this page shows the marvellous progress
made in twelve years. It is already an important railway
centre, from which seven or eight railways issue; and it is
evidently destined to be one of the most important distributing
points for a vast extent of the most fertile country in the
world. Its population in 1888 is given as twenty-five thousand.

The projected Hudson Bay Railway promises to revolutionize
the carrying trade of the whole North- West, including Dakota
and Minnesota. The distance from Port Nelson, in Hudson's
Bay, to Liverpool is 2,966 geographical miles. From Montreal
to Liverpool, via Cape Race, is 2,990 miles ; or via Belle Isle, is
2,787 miles. From New York to Liverpool is 3,100 miles.
For two hundred and fifty years the Hudson Bay Company
has shipped its goods from Port Nelson, and lost, it is said,
only a single ship. Hudson's Straits, it is claimed, are open
from four to six months of the year, and the cooler summer
temperature of this northern route is very favourable to the
traffic of grain and cattle. From Winnipeg to Port Nelson is
650 miles — of this forty miles are under contract. Both the
Provincial and the Dominion Governments are giving sub-
stantial aid to the enterprise. The saving of distance from
Winnipeg to Liverpool, via Port Nelson, over the Montreal
28

FORT GARRY

435

route is 775 miles ; over the New York route, 1,129 miles ; over
the Halifax route, 1,018 miles. From Rcgina the saving over
the Montreal route is 1,081 ; over the New York route, 1,435
miles ; over the Halifax route, 1,929 miles.

The broad block-paved Main Street, of Winnipeg, twice as
wide as the average street in Toronto, with its bustling business
and attractive stores, is a genuine surprise. Its magnificent new
City Hall surpasses in the elegance of its architecture any
other that I know in Canada. The new Post Office is a very
handsome building, and the stately Cauchon. Block and Hudson
Bay Company's buildings, in architecture and equipment and
stock, seem to the visitor to have anticipated the possible wants
of the community by a score of years. My genial host and
guide, the Rev. A. Langford, took especial pride and pleasure
in showing me the sights of this young prairie city. Grace
Church is very elegant and commodious within, but without
looks like a great wholesale block. It was so constructed that
when the permanent church, which it is proposed in time to
erect, is built, the old one can be with ease converted into a
large wholesale store.

It was with peculiar interest that J wandered over the site
of the historic Fort Garry — now almost entirely obliterated.
The old gateway and the old Governor's residence — a broad-
eaved, solid, comfortable-looking, building- -and a few old store-
houses, are all that remain of the historic old fort which
dominated the mid-continent, and from which issued commands
which were obeyed throughout the vast regions reaching to
the Rocky Mountains and the shores of Hudson's Bay. It
has also its more recent stormy memories. A gentleman
pointed out the scene of the dastardly murder of the patriot
Scott by the rebel Riel. Around the town may be seen num-
erous half-breeds and Indians. Of the latter I will give cuts
of characteristic types. Crossing the river I visited the old
church of St. Boniface, in or near which Riel lies buried.
The church, with its gleaming spire and group of ecclesiastical
buildings, is a conspicuous object for many miles. It called
to my mind the following fine poem by Whittier :

I-

486

O.y THE RF.n RIVI.R.

THE IlKl) JUVKK VOYAOEUH.

"Out (iiiil in the rivor is wiiuliii;,'
'I'lu' linkn of itH I'lii'^', rod cliiiiii
Tlirongh l)eltH uf dimky piiio-limd
Anil gUHty loaguiiH of jilain.

Only, iit tiniL'H, a HUioko-wruatli

With tlio diifting cldud-rack joins,—

The smoke of tlio luuitiny-lodgos
Of till) wild AHsinil)oine.s !

Drearily blows the north wind
From the land of ico and siiuw ;

The eyes tiiat look are weary,
And lieavy the hands that row.

And witii one foot on the water,

And one upon tiie shore,
The Angel of Shadow gives warning

That day shall he no more.

Is it the elang of wild-geese ?

Is it the Indian's yell.
That lends to the voice of the north wind

The tones of a far-off bell ?

The voyageiir smiles as he listens
To the sound that grows apace :

Well he knoweth the vesper ringing
Of the bells of St. Boniface,

The bells of the Roman Mission,
That call from their turrets twain,

To the boatman on the river.
To the hunter on the plain !

Even so in our mortal journey
The bitter north winds blow ;

And thus upon life's Red River
Our hearts, as oarsmen, row.

And when the Angel of Shadow
Rests his feet on wave and shore,

And our eyes grow dim with watching,
And our hearts faint at the oar,

Happy is he who heareth

The signal of his release
In the bells of the Holy City,

The chimes of eternal peace ! "

ir[nii>ii!ii|i|.iiiiiiii iimiii

ST. DO MI' ACE,

437

Instead of "turrets twain," however, the present church has
only one. As I approachod it the funeral of a little half-breed
child issued from the door — a priest in his vestments, some
boys bearing candles, the sexton carrying a large cross and a

a
O

•s

few mourners bearing a little white coffin. The priest repeated
a few words over the grave and sprinkled the coffin with an
" aspergillum," and turned away. I followed him into the
sacristy. He told me he belonged to the order of Oblates, as

438

A CONVENT SCENE.

did most of the priests in the North- West, an ' gave me some
late autumn flowers from his garden. I visitea also the old
red-roofed convent, where a number of nuns carry on quite an
extensive school for girls. It was the birthday of the Lady
Superior, and the novices were celebrating the day by out-of-
door games. It was like a scene in Normandy to see those
bright-eyed French girls, in their white wimples and dark
dresses, playing like children. They were blindfolded in turn,
and each, after turning around three times, tried with a stick
to touch a bag of candies placed upon the ground. Their merry
laugh seemed anything but nun-lik'^. Even the servant-maids,
who were digging the crop of potatoes in the garden, wore a
sort of conventual dress. Under the mello.r autumn light it
looked like a picture by Corot. One of the nuns took me
through the orphanage where were gathered a number of little
waifs — one from Amsterdam, two from Scotland, and others,
whites and half-breeds, from far and near. They sang for me
very prettily in English and French.

The Sabbath services in Grace Church were occasions
of special interest. My travelling companion, Dr. Bowmun
Stephenson, prefaced his admirable sermon in the mori ing by
the following appropriate remarks :

" No one," he said, " could occupy the position in which he
found himself wHhout having his imagination greatly excited
and his heart very deeply stirred. A stranger from the Old
World, he found himself :n the gateway of a new and great
land. He had come to a city which was but of yesterday, and
v^hich yet in its size and power and solidity made it diflicult
to believe that it was only a dozen years old ; but still more, as
he remembered that, with his face turned toward the western
sky, he stood here in the gateway of a new nd great region,
was he profoundly impressed with the great possibilities of the
future. Let any man think what was going to happen between
this place and the Rocky Mountains in the next fifty years ;
what great villages would rise, what homesteads would be
planted all over these lertile plains, what great and powerful
towns, what mighty cities would be built — who could say what
was going to be in the next half century ? What awful wrecks

Town Kali,, \Vinmi-k(;, (p. 438).

mmm&mi^'

> vygiWHWWW W'JW OriiwW'W"''

BRIGHT A UGURIES.

439

there would be — wrecks of happiness and wrecks of character ;
and, on the other hand, what splendid success! What wonderful
surprises and changes, kaleidoscopic in chai'acter, number and
variety, in the life of these regions must take place in the next
fifty years! No man could come amongst all this as a stranger,
and find himself in the position in which the speaker found
himself, without feeling himself stirred to the very depths of
his nature. Other questions came up to the man who believed
that the world was not ruled by chance, but that God was .
working out His glorious purposes in life. One thing was quite
certain : boundless plains of fertile land and almost unlimited
possibilities of agricultural and commercial success would not
secure the greatness of any people or the happiness of any
community. It was not the land, but the men who lived on the
land, that determined whether a nation was going to be great
or not ; and it was not the capacity for earning money, but the
power to live noble lives and do noble deeds, that made men
worthy to be accounted the sons of God, and fit to dwell on
the land that God has made."

One of the omens of brightest augury in this new city is that
the religious life in all the churches gives evidence of great
activity and energy. They are composed largely of the very
elite of the Edstern communities, whose adventurous spirit has
led them to seek their fortunes in the West. Everywhere one
meets the stalwart sons and fair daughters of Ontario and of
the Eastern Provinces. " Few cities of its size," says a Winni-
peg writer, " have such a variety of races. Here you may find
Jew and Icelander, Chinaman and Mennonite, Russian and
African, German, Italian, French, Spaniard, Norwegian, Dane,
Irish, Scotch, Welsh, English, American, and a host of different
sorts and kinds from the East." In the evening, after preaching,
I looked in at a Scandinavian service, where three hundred
Icelanders, representing a community of one thousand five
hundred of their kinsfolk, were worshipping God in their native
tongue.

The breadth of view and enlightened statesmanship of the
leaders of public opinion is seen in the collegiate system of
the country, with its central examining university, and its

'-i

PRIMITIVE CART.

441

Presbyterian, Anglican and Roman Catholic teaching colleges,
soon to be reinforced by a vigorous Methodist college.

A few miles north of Winnipeg is the old Scotch settlement
of Kildonan, the headquarters of the loyalists during the first
Riel Rebellion, and one of the most flourishing, well cultured,
happy and contented settlements to be found anywhere.

Our engraving represents one of the typical Red River carts
still in use among the half-breeds throughout the North-West.
It is peculiar in being made entirely of wood. There is neither
nail nor metal tire. The thing creaks horribly, and when a

Red River Caet.

hundred of them or more were out for the fall hunt, the groaning
of the caravan was something appalling. The harness, too, is
entirely home-made and exceedingly primitive. By means of
these carts much of the freighting to the scattered forts of the
North-West was done. It used to take ninety days for a
brigade to go from the Red River to Fort Edmonton. The
adhesive character of Winnipeg mud is indicated, for these
"antediluvian" carts are still occasionally seen in the prairie
capital. It is a tribute to the strength of the cart that the
viscous material does not drag it to pieces. The new arrivals

442

PRAIRIE ASPECTS.

can always be known by the manner in which they slip and
slide about on the muddy street crossings.

THE PRAIRIES.

The great material element in the prosperity of this young
city is the fertile prairie stretching far and wide around it on
every side. The deep black loam, the vast unfenced fields, the
mile-long furrows, stretching straight as an arrow in unbroken
lines, the huge stacks of grain — I counted twenty in a single
view near Brandon — these are the guarantees of the future
prosperity of the prairie province, that no collapsed boom can
destroy. A pleasant feature in this prairie region was the
fringe of poplar trees skirting the banks of the streams — all
aflame in their autumnal foliage, tind suggestive of blazing
hearths on the long winter nights. Till the discovery of coal
in the North-West, the subject of winter fuel was one of the
most serious questions. But the exhaustless supplies of good
coal at Lethbridge and elsewhere have proved the solution of
the problem.

The railway stations through the Province of Manitoba
give evidence of life and energy. At many of them are two,
three, or even four, capacious steam elevators, representing rival
wheat-purchasing companies, and frequently a number of mills.
At Carberry my genial friend, the Rev. J. W. Bell, introduced
me to the proprietors of several well-filled general stores.
While not many houses were in sight, he said the country
back from the railway had many magnificent farms. Though
the country is apparently as level as a billiard table, there is
really an ascent of one hundred feet from Winnipeg to Portage
la Prairie. Beyond Poplar Point almost continuous farms
appear. The line of trees not far away on the south marks the
course of the Assiniboine River, which the railway follows for
one hundred and thirty miles.

Portage la Prairie and Brandon, situated respectively sixty and
one hundred and thirty miles west of Winnipeg, are evidently
destined to be important centres of local distribution. Un-
fortunately they are now burdened with municipal debts,
incurred during the "boom;" but the public buildings and

and

444

PRAIRIE TOWNS.

schools, etc., are elements of prosperity that will long survive
the collapse of the boom. Portage la Prairie, with a population
of three thousand, on the Assiniboine River, is the market
town of a rich and populous province. The Manitoba and
North-Western Railway extends from here one hundred and
eighty miles north-west, towards Prince Albert, with branches
to Rapid City and Shell River.

Between Portage la Prairie and Brandon, stations succeed
one another at intervals of five or eight miles, and many of

Brandon, Man.

«?>>.

Tr^^

them are surrounded by bright and busy towns. The Brandon
Hills are seen towards the south-west. Four miles beyond
Chater the Assiniboine is crossed by an iron bridge and Brandon
is reached. It is tbe largest grain market in Manitoba, and the
distributing market for an extensive and well-settled country.
The town is beautifully situated on high ground, and, although
only six years old, has well-made streets and, many substantial
buildings, with a population of four thousand five hundred.
A railway is being built north-westward toward the Saskatche-
wan country. Our engraving of Brandon will give a good idea

1«S'*««««WP«R*W>WW!W''-T!>-'^

A GRASSY SEA.

445

ot* a " live " railway town, with its elevators, side tracks, etc.
Beyond Brandon the railway draws away from the Assiniboine
River and rising from its valley to a "rolling" or unduhvting
prairie, well occupied by prosperous fanners, as the thriving
villages at frequent intervals bear evidence.

There is a feeling of isolation in traversing the boundless
prairie — not absolutely level, but heaving in vast undulations,
like the ground-swell of the sea. The settlements are widely
scattered, and the settlers' wooden or sod-covered houses look
so lonely under the vastness of the brooding sky and of the
treeless plain.

The great natural features of this magnificent territory are
often of surpassing beauty, and sometimes of grand sublimity.
The prairies spreading like a shoreless ocean, and starred with
vari-coloured flowers — flashing dew-crowned in the rosy light
of dawn, sleeping beneath the fervid blaze of noon, or crimson-
dyed in the ruddy glow of sunset — are exquisitely beautiful.
At night, when the rolling waves of grass gleam in the pallid
moonlight, like foam-creasts on the sea, or when the far horizon
flares with lurid flames, and dun-rolling smoke-clouds mount
the sky, they become sublime. So pure and dry and bracing
is the atmosphere, that the range of vision is vastly increased,
all the senses seem exalted, and new life is poured through
every vein.

As we sweep on and on, all day long and all night, and all
next day and half the night, a sense of the vastness of this
great prairie region — like the vastness of the sea — grows upon
one with overwhelming force. The following lines of Bryant's
well describe some of the associations of a first view of the
prairies : —

"These are the givrdens of the Desert, these
The unshorn fiekls, boundless and beautiful,
For which the speech of England has no name—
The Prairies. I behold them for the first,
And my heart swells, while the dilated sight
Takes in the encircling vastness. Lo ! they lie
In airy undulations, far away,
As if the ocean, in his gentlest swell,
Stood still, with all his rounded billows fixed

446

BRYANT ON THE PRAIRIES.

And motionless forovor. — Motionless ? — •

No— they are all unuliainod again. The clouda

Sweep over witli their shadows, and, beneath,

The surface rolls and Huctuates to the eye.

Man hath no part in all this glorinua work :

The hand that built the firmament hath heaved

And smoothed these verdant swells, and sown their slopes

With lierbage. . . . The groat heavens

Seem to stoop down upon the scene in love, —

A nearer vault, and of a tenderer blue.

Than that which bonds above the eastern hills. . . ,

In these plains the bison feeds no more, where onco he shook

The earth with thundering steps — yet here I meet

His ancient footprints stamped beside the pool.

Still this great solitude is quick with life.

Myriads of insects gaudy, as the flowers

They flutter over, gentle quadrupeds,

And birds, that scarce have learned the fear of man,

Are here, and sliding reptiles of the ground,

Startlingly beautiful. . . . The bee,

A more adventurous colonist than man.

With whom he came across the eastern deep.

Fills the savannas with his murmurings,

And hides his sweets, as in the golden age,

Within the hollow oak. I listen long

To his domestic hum, and think I hear

The sound of that advancing multitude

Which soon shall till these deserts. From the ground

Comes up the laugh of children, the soft voice

Of maidens, and the sweet and solemn hymn

Of Sabbath worshippers. The low of herds

Bends with the rustling of the heavy grain

Over the dark-brown furrows. All at once

A fresher wind sweeps by, and breaks my dream,

And I am in the wilderness alone. "

it,i»fHx'W»^V^"''^*

DELL FARM.

147

THE I^OETH-WEST TERRITORY.

OUTSIDE of the Province of Manitoba extends the North-
West Territory of Canada. It is bounded on the south
by the 49th parallel, which divides it from the United States.
It follows this line west to the base of the Rocky Mountains,
which it touches at very nearly the 111th degree of west longi-
tude, and takes a north-west trend to the base of the Rocky
Mountains, until it comes in contact with the territory of
Alaska, and proceeds thence due north to the Arctic Ocean.
On the eastern side it is bounded by the Province of Mani-
toba.

This vast region has been provisionally organized by the
Dominion Government for purposes of administration into four
districts, named respectively Assiniboia, Saskatchewan, Alberta
and Athabasca. I condense from the Guide Book to the
Dominion, issued by the Department of Agriculture, the follow-
ing information about these great territorial divisions.

The district of Assiniboia comprises an area of about ninety-
five thousand square miles, and lies immediately west of Mani-
toba. The valley of the QuAppelle is in Assiniboia. The
view over the broad Qu'Appelle valley, with its winding river,
is one of the finest in the North- West ; comfortable farmsteads,
with huge stacks of grain, greet the eye for many a mile.
This district has been selected for the large farming experiment
known as the " Bell Farm." The experiment embraces a
scheme for a wheat-farm of a hundred square miles or sixty-
four thousand acyres. From Indian Head, near the centre of
the farm, the headquarters buildings may be seen on the right.
The neat square cottages of the farm labourers dot the plain as
far as the eye can reach. The furrows on this farm are usually
ploughed four miles long, and to plough one furrow outward
and another returning is a half day's work for a man and team.

MJLITAKV I'AR.MIXC.

440

y ()r{,'anizati<)n,

"The work is done with
ploughing by brigades and

Many towns and villages have sprung up with surprising,
rapidity on the line of the Canadian Pacific Railway, in tlio

almost niilitar
reaping by divisions

district of Assiniboia. Among these may be mentioned Broad-
view, Indian Head, Qu'Appelle, Regina (the capital), Moose Jaw,
Swift Current and Medicine Hat.

The district of Alberta comprises an area of about one hundred
thousand square miles, and lies between Assiniboia and the

<2Q

r/1

ALBERTA.

451

Province of British Columbia at the base of the Rocky Moun-
tains. A great portion of this district being immediately under
the mountains, has scenery of magnificent beauty. Its cold,
clear streams and rich and luxuriant grasses make it a very
paradise for cattle. Numerous ranches have been stn-rted, and
the number of neat cattle on these was, during the summer of
188f), close on one hundred thousand, bef^wecn thirty thousand
and forty thousand sheep, and about ten thousand horses.
Experience has already proved that with good management the
cattle thrive well :n the winter, the percentage of loss being
much less than that estimated for when these ranches were
undertaken.

With respect to those portions of these North-West plains of
Canada in which alkali is found. Prof. Macoun declares that
these will u^aome the most valuable of the wheat lands as
settlement progresses, the alkali being converted into a valuable
fertilizer by the admixture of barn-yard manure. The profes-
sor further contends that these alkaline plains will become the
great wheat fields of the American continent long after the
now fertile prairit.^ and fields to the east shall have become
exhausted.

It is not, however, only in agricultural resources that the
district of Alberta is rich. There are in it the greatest extent
of coal-fields known in the world. Large petroleum deposits
are known to exist. Im.nense supplies of timber are also
among the riches of Alberta. These are found in such positions
M to be easily workable in the valleys along the numerous
streams flowing thruugh the foot-hills of the Rocky Mountains
into tlie great Saskatchewan. It is needless to .say that
resources such as these in North America, now that they are
pierced by the Canadian Transcontinental Railway, will not
remain long without development.

('algary is the chief town in Alberta. It is beautifully
situated at the confluence of the Bow and the Klbow river.s. It
is very thriving, and already does a large business. It com-
mands a beautiful view of the Rocky Mountains, and i.s
undoubtedly destined to become a large city.

The district ot Saskatchewan co:iipri.ses about one hundred

; If

ATHABASCA.

453

and fourteen thousand square miles. It lies north of Manitoba.
This district, owing to the line of the Canadian Pacific Railway
being taken south through the districts of Assiniboia and
Alberta, has, of cour.se, not .so rapidly settled as these. It yet,
however, contains the flourishing .settlements of Prince Albert,
Battleford, and others. It is a region of immense resources,
the two branches of the great river Saskatchewan passing
through a large part of it. It has several projected railway
lines, which, it is expected, will be immediately proceeded with.

The district of Athabasca comprises an area of about one
hundred and twenty-two thousand square miles. It lies north
of the district of Alberta, and includes the immense and fertile
valley of ttie Peace River, whoso extent and fertility are as yet
only partially known. This district has also vast resources,
but as yet, from its northern position, is out of the range of
immediate settlement.

This vast territory contains great lakes and great rivers.
The Mackenzie is one of the largest rivers in the world, and
empties into the Arctic Oc.an. Its estimated length is two
thousand five hundred miles, including the Slave River, which
is a part of its system. This river is generally navigable,
except at the base of the Rocky Mountains, where it is inter-
rupted by cascades. The country through which it runs is rich
in mineral deposits, including coal. The Peace, another great
river of the North-West, has an estimated course of one thou-
sand one hundred miles, draining a country containing very
great agricultural ami mineral resources.

Another great river which takes its rise in the Rocky Moun-
tains, is the Saskatchewan, which empties into Lake Winnipeg,
having a total length of about one thousand five hundred miles.
The river is navigable from the lake to Fort Edmonton, and it
drains an immense agricultural region. There are numerous
other rivers in this territory, such as the Nelson, the Churchill,
the Winnipeg and the Assiniboine.

The lakes are the Great Bear Lake, the Great Slave Lake,
the Athabasca, liake Winnijieg, and others. The Great Bear
Lake contains an area of fourteen thousand square miles. The
Great Slave Lake has a length, from east to west, of three

PRAIRIE PLATEAUX.

hundred miles ; its greatest breadth being fifty miles. The
Athabasca Lake has a length of two hundred and thirty miles;
averaging fourteen miles in width, having, however, a very
much greater width in some places. Lake Winnipeg has a
length of two hundred and eighty miles, with a breadth of
fifty-fi /e miles. There are numerous other lakes of large size
in the North-West.

The Nelson River drains the waters of Lake Winnipeg into
Hudson's Bay; and the extent of its discharge may be imagined

_ from the fact that this lake
receives the waters of the
Red River of the north, as
well as of the River Winni-
peg, the Saskatchewan, and
others.

A remarkable feature of
this great extent of territory
is its division along lines run-
ning generally north-west
and south-east, into three dis-
tinct prairie steppes, or pla-
teaux, as they are generally
called. The first of these is
known as the Red River
Valley and Lake Winnipeg
plateau. The width of the
boundary line is about fifty-
two miles, and the avei'age
height about eight hundred
feet above the sea. At the boundary line it is about one
thousand feet. The first plateau lies entirely within the
Province of Manitoba, and is estimated to contain about seven
thousand square miles of the best wheat-growing land on the
continent, or in the world.

The second plateau or steppe has an altitude of one thousand
six hundred feet, having a width of about tw^o hundred and
fifty miles on the national boundary line, and an area of about
one hundred and five thousand square miles. The rich, undu-

Indian Meoioimk Mam.

i?J?/^iMA«llWJH

"WWUKi'lgiBI-iiiini " ■■

LVDIAN TYPES.

455

luting,

park-like country lies in this region. This section is

.specially favourable for settle-
ment, and includes the Assini-
boine and Qu'Appclle districts.
The third plateau or .steppe
begins on the boundary line
at the 104th n.eridian, where
it has an elevation of about
two thousand feet, and ex-
tends west for four hundred
and sixty five miles to the
foot of the Rocky Mountains,
where it has an altitude of
about four thousand two hun-
dred feet, making an average
height above the .sea of about
three thou.sand feet. Gener-
ally spea ing, the fir.st two
steppes are those which are

AssiNiBoiNE Indian.

mo.st favourable for agricul-
ture, and the third for graz-
ing. Settlement is proceeding
in the first two at a very
rapid rate ; and in the third
plateau numerous and pros-
pei'ous cattle ranches have
been established.

The prairie section of the
Canadian North -West, ex-
tendini; westward from the
neighbourhood of Winnipeg
to the base of the Rocky
Mountains, a distance of over
ei'dit hundred miles contains
large tracts of the finest agri-
cultural lands in the world.

IlALF-BRKKr)

The prairie is gemrally rolling or undulating, with large

456

INDIAN TYPES.

SyuANv, WITH Pai'oosi:,

clunips of woods and lines of
forests here and there. It
abounds with lakes, lakelets
and running streams, in the
neighbourhood of which the
scenery has been described as
the finest park scenerj' in the
world.

The richness of the soil, and
the salubrity of the climate,
which is peculiarly adapted to
the cultivation of grain and
raising of stock, will assuredly
cause this vast tract of country
to become, in the near future,
the home of millions of hap]>y
and prosperous people.

There is a generally accepted

theory that the great fertility of
the land in the North-West is
<lue genenilhr to three causes : —
First, tlie droppings of birds and
animals on the jjlains; sect>nd. the
ashes left by the annual prairie
"Hres; and third, the constant ac-
cunnilation of decayed vegetable
matter, and the fertilizing agency
of the bones of the innumerable
denizens of these vast j)lains; and
when the fact is considered that
great herds ol bufiiiln antl other
game btivo roam* I tor generations
ov(>r tl>e prairies ; that wild fowl
are found in vast numbers every-
where ; and tlml prairie fires have
raged yearly for generations in the Ixman Lad.

North- W«st, there is doubtless sound reason for this theory.

WATER surrLV.

457

Whatever may liave been the cause of the extreme richness
of the land, however, there is one feature whicli is of gi-eat
importance, and that is the depth of <];ood soil in the prairie
country. It has been frecpiently stated that the depth of black
loam in the North- West will ranj^e from one to four feet, and,
in some instances, even deeper, but the statement, though
received with a great deal of doubt, has, in many cases, been
verified.

A supply of good water is an indispensable necessity to the

A CAMriNf) SCENK 1\ TUK NoKTH- \V KST.

farmer, not only for household purposes, but also for stock.
The Canadian North-West has not only numerous rivers and
cx'eeks, but also a very large number of lakes and lakelets
throughout the whole country, and it has now been ascertained
definitely that i^ood water can be obtained almost anywhere
by means of wells ; in addition to which there are numerous,
cleai'-r'nining, never-failing springs to be found. There need,
therefore, be no apprehension of serious drought.

The NortJi-West is destined to become one of the finest
stock-raising countries i.i the world. Its boundless prairie.s,

453

RANCHING.

covered with luxuriant grasses — the usual yield of which, when
cut into hay, being from three to four tons per acre — and the
cool nights for which Manitoba is famous, are most beneficial
features in regard to stock ; and the remarkable dryness and
healthfulness of the winter tend to make cattle fat an \ well-
conditioned. The easy access to fine water, which exists in
nearly every part of the Province, is another advantage in
stock-raising. The abundance of hay everywhere makes it an
easy matter for farm.ers to winter their stock ; and, in addition,
there is, and always will be, a ready home market for beef.

The cattle ranches established at the eastern base of the Rocky
Mountains have proved wonderfully successful, sohie of them
having as many as twenty thousand head of stock. Cattle
winter well in the Canadian North-West, and, if properly
stabled at night and carefully attended to, will come out fat in
the spring.

Apiculture is successfully carried on in the North-West, as
bees require a clear, dry atmosphere, and a rich harvest of
flowers; if the air is damp, or the weather cloudy, they will not
work so well. Another reason why they work less in a warm
climate is, that the honey gathered remains fluid for sealing a
longer time, and, if gathered faster, then it thickens, it sours
and spoils. The clear, bright skies, dry air, and rich flora of
the North-West are well adapted to the bee culture.

New centres of trade are continually springing into existence
wherever settlements tnke place, and these contain go erally one
or more stores where farmers can find a ready market for their
prcxluce. The stations along the line of the Canadian Pacific
Railway arc not more than eight or ten miles apart, and as it is
the policy of the Company to facilitate the erection of elevators
for the storage of wheat, etc., farmers will be enabled to dispose
of their grain at good prices almost at their doors. The very
large influx of people, and the prosecution of railways and
public works will, however, cause a great home demand for
some years, and for a time limit the quantity for expoit.

This will be as convenient a place as any to give an account
of the fur trade of the great North-West, and a sketch of
mission work among the Indian tribes.

!■!

pmm

TRAPPERS.

459

TIIE FUR TRADE.

Few of the da'nty dames of London or Paris, or oven of
Toronto or Montreal, have any conception of tiie vicissitudes
of peril and hardship encoiintercMl in procurinjr the costly
ermines and sables in which they defy the winter's cold.
About the month of August, the Indians of the great North-
West procure a supply of pork, flour and ammunition, gener-
ally on trust, at the Hudson's Bay posts, and thread their way
up the lonely rivers and over many a portage, far into the

»ns'/-*

Half-Breed and "Huskie" Duo.

interior. There they build their bark lodges, generally each
family li}' itself, or sometinu's a single individual alone, scores
of miles from his nearest neighbour. They carry a supply of
steel traps, which they carefully set and bait, concealing all
appearance of design. The hunter makes the round of his
traps, often many miles apart, returning to the camp, as by an
unerring instinct, through the pathless wilderness. The skins,
which are generally those of the otter, beaver, marttn, mink
and sable, and occasionally of an arctic fox or bear, are stretched

460

A LOi\EL Y LIFE.

and dried in tho smoke of the wigwams. The trappers live
chiefly on rabbits, muskrats, fish, and sometimes on cariboo,
which they hunt on snow-shoes. The loneliness of such a life

is appalling. On every side stretches for hundreds of leagues
the forest primeval.

Yet to mcj,ny there is a fascination in these solitudes. Lord

^ssss^siammm

AN ODD ASSO/iTMEi'^T.

461

Milton and Dr. Cheadle spent the winter of 1863-64 in a
trapper's cuuip witii great apparent enjoyment. Their pro-
visions beconiintf exhausted, they had to send six hiuuh-ed
miles to Fort Garry, by a dog team, for four bags of flour and a
few pounds of tea. The lonely trapper, however, must depend
on his own resources. In the spring he returns to the trading-
posts, .shooting the rapids of the swollen streams, frec^uently
with bales of furs worth several hundreds of dollars. A sable
skin which may be held in the folded hand is worth in the
markets of Europe $30 or S35, or of the fine.st quality S75.
The Indians of the interior are models of honesty. They will

' •

' ' -'.-' ■ ;?

: \- '

. .'" - '■ - - . t

._.: -7--

' '" ■ :'- - ■' "^iP^^g!fe:vj^'i^T^^.:^sg

— ,- ~ — ^•"

— "."-_

Hudson's Bay Post.

not trespass on each other's streams or hunting-grounds, and
always punctually repay the debt they have incurred at the
trading-post. A Hudson's Bay store contains a miscellaneous
assortment of goods, comprising such divei'se articles as snow-
shoes and cheap jewellery, canned fruit and blankets, gun-
powder and tobacco, fish-hooks and scalping-knives, vermilion
for war-paint, f, ^ ■ leads for embroidery. Thither come the
plumed and paiited -ons of the forest to barter their peltries
for the knives ai.'l guns of Sheffield and Birmingham, the gay
fabrics of Manche&iHi- and Leeds, and other luxuries of savage
life, and to smoke the pipe of peace with their white allies.
Many thousand dollars' worth of valuable furs are often collected
at these posts. They are generally deposited in a huge log

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AN APT MOTTO.

463

m
1,1

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storehouse, and defended by a stockade, sometimes loopholed
for musketry, or mounting a few small cannon. On the flag-
staff is generally displayed the flag of the Company with the
strange motto, "Pro pelle cittern," — Skin for skin. These posts
are sparsely scattered over this vast territoi'y. They are like
oases in the wilderness, generally having a patch of cultivated
ground, a garden of European plants and flowers, and all the
material comforts of civilization. Their social isolation is the
most objectionable feature. At one which I visited the chief
factor had just sent one hundred and thirty miles in an open
boat for the nearest physician. Yet many of the factors are
well educated men, who have changed the busydin of Glasgow
or Edinburgh for the solitude of these far-off" posts. And for
love's sweet sake, refined and well-born women will abandon
the luxuries of civilization to share the loneliness of the
wilderness with their bosom's lord. One of the Hudson's Bay
factors on Rupert's River wooed and won a fair Canadian girl,
and took her back in triumph to his home. She was carried
like an Indian princess over the portages and through the
forests in a canoe, supported by cushions, wrapped in 'richest
furs, and attended ever by a love that would not

" Betoem the winds of heaven
Visit her face too roughly."

There, in the heart of the wilderness, she kept her state and
wore her jewels as if a queen of society. In still more remote
regions temporary hunting-camps, like that shown in cut, are
established.

Almost the sole method of exploring the great northern fur
regions is by means of the bark canoe in summer, or the dog-
sledge or on snow-shoes in winter.

CANOE LIFE.

"The canoe," says Mr. H. M. Robinson, " is part of the savage.
After generations of use, it has grown into the eoonomy of his
life. What the horse is to the Arab, the camel to the desert
traveller, or the dog to the Esquimaux, the birch-bark canoe is
to the Indian. The forests along the river shores yield all the

CANOE LIFE.

465

materials requisite for its construction; cedar for its ribs; birch-
bark for its outer covering ; the thews of the juniper to sew
together the separate pieces; red pine to give resin for the
seams and crevices.

•• 'All the forest life is in it —
All its mystery and magic,
All the lightness of the birch-troo,
All the toughness of the cedar,
All the larch's supple sinews,
And it floated on the river
Like a yellow leaf in autumn,
Like a yellow water lily.'

Makino a Portaue.

" During the summer season the canoe is the home of the red
man. It is not only a boat, but a house ; he turns it over him
as a protection when he camps; he carries it long distances
overland from lake to lake. Frail beyond words, yet he loads
it down to the water's edge. In it he steers boldly out into the
broadest lake, or paddles through wood and swamp and reedy
shallow. Sitting in it he gathers his harvest of wild rice, or
catches fish, or steals upon his game ; dashes down the wildest

9(\

466

CANOE LIFE.

rapid, braves the foaming torrent, or lies like a wild bird on

the placid waters. While the trees are green, while the waters

dance and sparkle, and the wild duck dwells in the sedgy

ponds, the birch-bark canoe is the red man's home.

" And how well he knows the moods of the river ! To guide

his canoe through some whirling eddy, to shoot some roaring

waterfall, to launch it by the edge of some (iercely-rushing

torrent, or dash down a foaming rapid, is to be a brave and

skilful Indian. The man who does all this and does it well

must possess a rapidity of glance, a power in the sweep of his

Tracking a Canoe.

paddle, and a quiet consciousness of skill, not obtained save by
long years of practice.

" An exceedingly light and graceful craft is the birch-bark
canoe ; a type of speed and beauty. So light that one man can
easily carry it on his shoulders overland where a waterfall
obstructs his progress ; and as it only sinks five or six inches
in the water, few places are too shallow to float it. In this
frail bark, which measures anywhere from twelve to forty feet
long, and from two to five feet broad in the middle, the Indian
and his family travel over the innumerable lakes and rivers,
and the fur-hunters pursue their lonely calling.

TRACKING.

467

" Frequently the ascent of the streams is not made without
mishap. Sometimes the canoe runs against a stone, and tears
a small hole in the bottom. This obliges the voyagers to put
ashore immediately and repair the damage. They do it swiftly
and with admirable dexterity. Into the hole is fitted a piece
of bark ; the fibrous roots of the pine tree sew it in its place,
and the place pitched so as to be water-tight, all within an hour.
Again, the current is too strong to admit of the use of paddles,
and recourse is had to poling, if the stream be shallow, or
tracking if the depth of water forbid the use of poles. The
latter is an extremely toilsome process, and detracts much from

PoRTAoi Landing.

the romance of canoe-life in the wilderness. Tracking, as it is
called, is dreadfully harassing work. Half the crew go ashore
and drag the boat slowly along while the other half go asleep-
After an hour's walk the others take their turn, and so on,
alternately, during the entire day.

" But if the rushing or breasting up a rapid is exciting, the
operation of shooting them in a birch-bark canoe is doubly so.
True, all the perpendicular falls have to be " portaged," and in
a day's journey of forty miles, from twelve to fifteen portages
have to be made. But the rapids are as smooth water to the
hardy voyagers, who, in anything less than a perpendicular

468

SHOOTING A RAPID.

fall, seldom lift the canoe from the water. As the frail birch-
bark nears the rapid from above, all is quiet. The mosl skilful
voyager sits on his heels in the bow of the canoe, the next best
oarsman similarly placed in the stern. The hand of the bows-
man becomes a living intelligence as, extended behind him, it
motions the steersman where to turn the craft. The latter
never takes his eye off that hand for an instant. Its varied
expression becomes the life of the canoe.

" The bowsman peers straight ahead with a g;lance like that

K NoRTHBRN River.

of an eagle. The canoe, seeming like a cocklershell in its
frailty, silently approaches the rim where the waters di-sappear
from view. On the very edge of the slope the bowsman
suddenly stands up, and bending forward his head, peers
eagerly down the eddying rush, then falls upon his knees
again. Without turning his head for an instant, the sentient
hand behind him signals its warning to the steersman. Now
there is no time for thought ; no eye is quick enough to take
in the rushing scene. There are strange currents, unexpected
whirls, and backward eddies and rocks — rocks rough and

THE SELVEDGE OF CIVILIZATION,

469

jagged, smooth, slippery, and polished — and through all this
the canoe glances like an arrow, dips like a wild bird down the
wing of the storm. All this time not a word is spoken ; but
every now and again there is a quick twist of the bow paddle
to edge far off some rock, to put her full through some boiling
billow, to hold her steady down the slope of some thundering
chute.

" But the old canoe-life of the Fur Land is rapidly passing
away. In many a once well-beaten pathway, naught save
narrow trails over the portages, and rough wooden crosses over
the graves of travellers who perished by the way, remains to
mark the roll of the passing years."

Fishing Throdoh the Ioe, Lake Winnipeg.

The Indians near the frontier settlements, who hang upon
the skirts of civilization, are not favourable specimens of their
race. They acquire the white man's vices rather than his
virtues. They are a squalid, miserable set ; their bark wig-
wams are filthy, comfortless structures. The older women are
horribly withered, bleared, and smoke-dried creatures, extremely
suggestive of the witches in " Macbeth." The younger squaws
are very fond of supplementing their savage costume with gay
ribbons, beads, and other civilized finery; and in one wigwam
I saw a crinoline skirt hanging up. The men are often idle,
hulking fellows. They keep a great number of dogs — vile curs
of low degree; and in one camp which I visited was an exceed-

470

MISSIONS.

ingly tame raven. Neither sex commonly wears any head-
dress in summer, save the coarse hair hanging in a tangled
mass over the eyes. The food supply is often extremely pre-
carious. Anything more wretched than the dependence for
subsistence on the tish caught through the ice on the lakes and
streams in winter is hard to conceive. In the days when
buffalo were plenty the great fall hunt was a time of reckless
feasting on buffalo's tongue. The tenderest portions were dried
in the air and often manufactured into pemmican, that is, the
dried flesh was broken into fine pieces and pressed into a skin
bag, and over it was poured melted tallow. This extremely
strong and wholesome food was long a staple at all the Hudson
Bay Company forts. The group of Indians in our cut seem to
be sitting for their photographs in a very stolid manner.

INDIAN MISSIONS.

In the far interior, where the Indians are removed from the
baleful influence of the white man's fire-water, a finer type
exists. The Hudson's Bay Company has always sedulously
excluded that bane of the red race wherever their jurisdiction
extends. Among the prot^gt^s of the Company, therefore,
Christian missions have had their greatest successes, although
their nomad life almost negatives every attempt to civilize
them. Near many of the posts is a Jesuit mission, frequently
a heritage from the times of French supremacy. There are
a number of Church of England missions, generally near the
settlements, and some very successful Presbyterian missions.
The Indian missions of the Methodist Church are, however,
more numerous than those of any other body, and have been
attended with very great success. The have in the Dominion,
chiefly in Hudson's Bay Territory, forty-seven Indian missions,
4,437 communicants, and probably 14,000 members of congre-
gation. Many of these, once pagan savages, now adorn with
their lives their profession of the gospel.

There are no more arduous mission-fields in the world than
those among the native tribes of the great North- West. The
devoted servant of the Cross goes forth to a region beyond the
pale of civilization. He often suffers privation of the very

472

HEROIC ZEAL.

nocossarieH of life. He is exposed to the rigours of an almost
arctic winter. He is cut oft froin human sympathy or con;;enial
companionship. Communication with the great world is often
maintained by infrequent and irregular mails, conveyed by
long and tortuous canoe routes in summer, or on dog-slods in

winter. The un-
varnished tales
of some of these
m i s s i o n a ri e s
lack no feiture
of heroic daring
and apostolic
zeal. But re-
cently one, with
his newly- wed-
ded wife, a lady
of much culture

Smow-Shoeino.

and refinement, travelled hundreds of miles by lake and river,
often making toilsome portages, once in danger of their lives
by the upsetting of their bark canoe in an arrowy rapid. In
midwinter the same intrepid missionary made a journey of
several hundred miles in a dog-sled, sleeping in the snow with

SNOU'-S/IOi:iA'G.

473

the thcrinomoter forty, and oven fifty, dojjrees below zero, in
order to open a new mission among a pagan tribe !

In winter the snow falls deep and is packed hard by the
wind. To walk well on snow, there is nothing like snow-shoes.
These are compo.sed of a light wooden frame, about four feet in
length, tapering from a width of about fifteen inches at the
centre to points at either end, the toes being turned up so
as to prevent tripping. Over this frame a netting of deer-skin
sinews or threads is stretched for the foot of the runner to rest
upon. The object of this appliance is by a thin network to
distribute the weight of the wearer over ou irgo a surface of
snow OS will prevent him from sinking. T)ie credit of the
invention is due to the Indians, and, like that of the canoe and
other Indian instruments, it is so ya fectly suited to the
obic 't in view as not to be susceptible of improvement by the
whites.

On show-shoes an Indian or half-breed will ti'avel thirty,
forty, and sometimes even fifty miles in twenty-four hours. It
is the common and, indeed, the only available mode oi' foot-
travel away from the public highways in winter.

Travelling otherwise than on foot is accomplished almost
entirely by means of dogs. The following account of winter
travel is taken from H. M. Robinson's graphic book on " The
Great Fur Land": "The vehicles to which the dogs are har-
nessed are of three kinds — the passenger sledge or dog-cariolo,
the freight sledge, and the travaille. A cariole consists of a
very thin board, usually not over half an inch thick, fifteen to
twenty inches wide, and about ten feet long, turned up at one
end in the form of a half circle, like a toboggan. To this board
a light frame-work box is attached, about eighteen inches from
the rear end. When travelling it is lined with buffalo-robes
and blankets, in the midst of which the passenger sits, or rather
reclines; the vehicle being prevented from capsizing by the
driver, who runs behind on snow-shoes, holding on to a line
attached to the back part of the cariole. The projecting end or
floor behind the passenger's seat is utilized as a sort of boot
upon which to tie baggage, or as a pl«»tform upon which the
driver may stand to gain a temporary respite when tired of

474

DOG-TRAINS.

running. Four dogs to each sledge form a complete train.
They are harnessed to the cariole by means of two long traces.
" The rate of speed usually attained in sledge-travel is about
forty miles per day of ten hours, although this rate is often
nearly doubled. Four miles an hour is a common dog-trot
when the animals are well loaded; but this can be greatly
exceeded when hauling a cariole containing a single passenger
upon smooth snow-crust or a beaten track. Very frequently
extraordinary distances are compassed by a well-broken tra n

Doo-Tkain and Indian Rcnner.

,of dogs. Sixty or eighty miles per day is not infrequently made
in the way of passenger travel. An average train of four dogs
will trot briskly along with three hundred pounds' weight
without difficulty."

Our engraving on next page shows the Rev. Egerton Ryerson
Young, for nine years a missionary in the North-West, in
winter costume. Writing of this picture, Mr. Young says :

" My own appearance will seem rather peculiar and unminis-
terial. However, it is just about as I generally looked when
working or travelling in the winter in that cold land, where

''JACK" AND HIS MASTER.

476

the spirit thermometer — for the mercury would often be frozen
— used to get down to from forty to fifty degrees below zero.

Rev. E. R. Youno, in Winter Costume.
' The suit is of leather — dressed moose skin, or reindeer skin

476

WINTER TRAVEL.

— trimmed with far. The Indian women, who make these
leather suits, trim them also with a great deal of deer-skin
fringe. In their wild state on the plains, the warlike Indians
used to have these fringes made of the scalps of their enemies."
In the foreground is the famous dog "Jack," a huge St.
Bernard given Mr. Young by the Hon. Senator Sanford, of
Hamilton. He more than once by his sagacity and strength
saved the missionary's life.

Mr. Young thus describes a winter journey in the North Land:

" Ere we start let us examine our outfit — our dogs, our

Indians, our sleds and their loads. The dogs are called the

Esquimo or ' Huskie ' dog. I used them altogether on my long

A FiflHT IN Harness.

winter journeys until I imported my St. Bernards and New-
foundlands. These Esquimo dogs are queer fellows. Their
endurance is wonderful, their tricks innumerable, their appetites
insatiable, their thievish propensities unconquerable. It seems
to be their nature to steal, and they never get the mastery of it.
" Off we go. How the dogs seem to enjoy the sport. With
heads and tails up they bark and bound along as though it were
the greatest fun. The Indians, too, are full of life, and are put-
ting in their best paces. The bracing air and vigorous exercise
make us very hungry, and about noon we will stop and dine.
A few small dry trees are cut down and a fire is quickly built.
Snow is soon melted, tea is made, and this with some boiled

INDIAN RUNNERS.

477

meat and biscuits will do very well. Our axes and kettles arc
again fastened to the sleds, and we are oft" again. We journey on
until the sun is sinking in the west, and the experienced Indian
guide says we will need all the daylight that is left in whiah to
prepare our camp for the night.

" Of our Indian runners it is a great pleasure to speak. Faith-
fully indeed were their services rendered, and bright are the
memories of their untiring devotion and constancy. When
their feet and ours were bleeding and nearly every footprint
of our trail was marked with blood, their cheerfulness never
failed them, and their hearts quailed not. When supplies ran
short, and home and plenty were many days distant, can we
ever forget how, ere the missionary wavS made aware of the
emptiness of his provision bags, they so quietly put themselves on
quarter rations that there might yet be sufficient full meals for
him ? And then when the long day's journey of perhaps sixoy or
eighty miles was ended, and we gathered at our camp tire, with
no roof above us but the stars, no friendly shelter within scores of
miles of us, how kindly, and with what reverence and respect, did
they enter into the worship of the great God who had shielded
us from so many dangers, and brought us to that hour. Some-
times they tried our patience, for they were human and so
were we; but much more frequently they won our admiration
by their marvellous endurance, and unerring skill and wisdom
in trying hours, when blizzards raged, and blinding snow-storms
obliterjiced all traces of the trail, and the white man became so
confused and affected by the cold that he was hardly able to
distinguish his right hand from his left.

" Picturesque was their costume, as in new leather suits, gaily
adorned with bead or porcupine quilt work, by the skilful hand
of bright-eyed wife or mother, they were on hand to commence
the long journey. And when the ' Farewells,' to loved ones
- i--' ', jx\s\ the word 'Marche!' was given, how rapid was
their pace, and how marvellous their ability to keep it up for
many a long, long day. To the missionary they were ever
loyal and true. Looking over nine years of faithful service to
him, as he went up and down through the dreary wastes
preaching Jesus, often where His name had never been heard

478

NATIVE M/SSrONARV.

before, he cannot recall a single instance of treachery or ingra-
titude, but many of devoted attachment and unselfish love.
Some of them have since finished the long journey, and have
entered in through the gate into the celestial city about which

Bbv, Henry B. Steinhaueb.

they loved to hear us talk as we clustered around the camp
fire. May we all get there by-and-by.

One of the most remarkable fruits of missionary labour
among the aborigines was the native missionary, Henry B.
Steinhauer, whose portrait we give on this page. He was an
Ojibway Indian, born on the Rama reserve, in 1820, and

WINTER CAMP.

479

trained in the Indian School at Grape Island. He afterwards
received a liberal education at Victoria Colleffe. In 1840 he
went as a missionary to his red brethren in the far North- West,
paddling his own canoe for hundreds of miles to reach his
future field of labour. He translated large portions of the
Scriptures and hymn-book into the native dialect. In 1854 he
accompanied the Rev. John Ryerson to Great Britain, and
pleaded eloquently the cause of his red brethren before the
British Churches. He again devoted himself to missionary toil
in the North- West, travelling with the native tribes on their
hunts and planting among them the germs of Christian civili-
zation. After a life of earnest toil for their evangelization, he
passed from labour to reward on the last Sunday of 1884,
leaving two sons to walk in their father's footsteps as mission-
aries to the aboriginal races of the North-Wost.

"Our cut on page 480," continues Mr. Young, "gives an idea
of what a winter camp in those northern regions are, under the
most favorable circumstances. To get away from the fierce
breezes that so often blow on the lake, we turn into the forest
perhaps a quarter of a mile. The first thing done after finding
a suitable place for the camp is to unharness the dogs. Then,
using our big snow-shoes as shovels, we clear away the snow
from a level spot where we build up our camp fire, around
which we spend the night. Our camp kettles are got out
and supper is prepared. Then balsam boughs are cut, and
are spread on the ground under our robes and blankets, adding
much to our comfort. Our dogs must not be forgotten, and so
frozen fish in sufficient numbers are taken from our sleds to
give a couple to each dog. As these are frozen as hard almost
as stones we thaw them out at the fire. What a pleasure it
used to be to feed the dogs ! How they did enjoy their only
meal of the whole day. What appetites they had ! The way
those dogs could eat twelve or fourteen pounds of white fish,
and then come and ask for more, was amazing.

" There were some dogs that seemed always hungry, and never
would be quiet. All night long they kept prowling round in
the camp among the kettles, or over us while we tried to sleep.
They were very jealous of each other when in the camp, and as

480

WINTER CAMP.

they passed and repassed each other it was ever with a snarl.
Sometimes it would result in open war, and we have more than

once been rudely aroused from our slumbers by finding eight or
ten dogs fighting for what seemed to be the honour of sleeping
on our head.

BRILLIANT AURORAS.

481

O
J?

I''

The fatigue of travelling in the benumbing cold, perhaps
with a keen wind blowing over the icy lake, cannot be ade-
quately described. Sometimes a " blizzard " would prevent
travel altogether and drive the missionary to seek shelter. Mr.
Young exclaims : " How we used to enjoy the wintry camp after
a fatiguing day's journey, when both missionary and Indians
had tramped all day on snow-shoes. It was a real luxury to

find a place where
we could sit down
and rest our ach-
ing bones and tired
and often bleeding
feet. With plenty
of dry wood and
good food we for-
got our sorrows
and our isolation,
and our morning
and evening devotions were filled with gratitude and thank-
fulness to the great Giver of all good for His many mercies.

" How gloriously the stars shone out in those northern skies,
and how brilliant were the meteors that flashed athwart the
heavens ! But the glory of that land, surpassing any and every
other sight that this world aftbrds, is the wondrous Aurora.

War Dance in the Sky.

482

INDIAN SUPERSTITIONS.

The Giant or Lake Winnipeg.

Never alike, and
yet always beauti-
ful, it breaks the
monotonous gloom
of those long, dis-
mal wintry nights,
with ever-chang-
ing splendour. The
arc of light is vis-
ible sometimes in
the northern sky
as we see it here.
Then it would be-
come strangely agi-
tated, and would
deluge us in floods
of light. Some-
times at the zenith
a glorious corona
would be formed
that flashed and
scintillated with
such brilliancy that
the eye was pained
with its brightness.
Suddenly bars of
coloured light shot
out from it, reach-
ing down apparent-
ly to the shore afar
off. The pagan In-
dians, as with awe-
struck counte-
nances they gazed
upon some of these
wonderful sights,
said they were
spirits of their war-

TRIUMPHS OF CHRISTIANITY.

483

sights,
were

like ancestors going out to battle. A great many of them
are no longer pagans. Through numerous difficultie8 and hard-
ships, the missionaries have gone to them with the story of
the cross, and hundreds of these once i .ivage men are devout
followers of the Lord Jesus. Their conversion to Christianity
has amply repaid the missionaries for all they have suffered in
the bitter cold winters, when, with dog trains, they were obligo4l
to journey scores, or even hundreds, of miles to carry to them
the news of salvation. But there are many yet unconverted,
and, thank God, there are devoted missionaries still willing to
suj9er and endure the bitter cold if by so doing they can bring
them into the fold of the Good Shepherd."

Another local superstition is that of the Giant of Lake
Winnipeg — a mysterious being, who, at the witching hour of
night, guides his strange craft swiftly on the bright moonlit
pathway on the lake and as mysteriously disappears. It is
customary to place offerings of tobacco, etc., as a peace-offering
on a rock by the lake side.

Norway House is a large establiphment of the Hudson Bay
Company, twenty miles north of the northern extremity of
Lake Winnipeg. It was for many years one of the most
important of all the Company's posts. Gentlemen of the Com-
pany, and large numbers of Indians, used to gather here every
summer, some of them coming from vast distances. The furs
of half ct continent almost were here collected and then sent
down to York Factory on the Hudson's Bay, and from that
place shipped to England.

Rossville Mission is two miles from Norway House. This
mission is one of the most flourishing in the wild North Land.
Here it was that the Rev. James Evans invented the wonderful
syllabic characters for the Cree Indians. In these characters
the whole Bible is now printed, as well as a large number of
hymns and catechisms. So simple is the system that an average
Indian can learn to read in three or four days. The church at
Rossville is large, and is often filled with hundreds of Indians
who love to hear the Word of God.

"Our next cut," says Mr. Young, "shows a group of Indian
wigwams. That human beings can live in such frail abodes, in

484

WIGIVAM LIFE.

such cold regions, is indeed surprising. But they do, and many
of them seem to thrive amazingly. Many a stormy day and
night I have spent in those queer dwelling-places. Sometimes
the winds whistled, and fine snow drifted in through the many
openings between the layers of the birch bark, of which they
were generally made, and I shivered until my teeth rattled
again. Often the smoke from the little fire, built on the ground

■^^y

An Indian ViLLAbs.

in the centre of the tent, re-
fused to ascend and go out
through the top; then my eyes
suffered, and tears would un-
bidden start. What a mixed-
up crowd we often were. Men,

women, children, and dogs — and all smoking except the mis-
sionary and the dogs. During the day we huddled around the
fire in a circle with our feet tucked in under us. After supper,
and when the prayers were over, we each wrapped our
blanket around us and stretched ourselves out with our feet
toward the fire, like the spokes of a wheel, the fire in the
centre representing the hub. Frequently the wigwam was so
small that we dare not stretch out our feet for fear of putting

TEPEES.

485

them in the fire, and so had to sleep in a position very much
lilce a half-opened jack-knife."

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g

In the prairie region the tepees are generally made of skin
as shown in our cut. These are much warmer and more com-
fortable than the birch-bark wigwams.

486

INDIAN BUtilAL.

The mode of disposing of the dead is very remarkable. In
some places the bodies are put in rude caskets or wrapped in
skins or blankets and placed in trees. The plain Indians erect
a scaffold on the prairie, on which reposes the dead body out of
the reach of the coyote or prairie wolf.

"'^^

■.■•>:31> '

Indian Gkavi ok thk Plains.

Few records of self-sacrifice are more sublime than that of the
devoted band at Edmonton House, near the Rocky Mountains,
ministering with Christ-like tenderness and pity to the Indians
smitten with that loathsome scourge, the small-pox. Few
pictures of bereavement are more pathetic than that of the sur-
vivors, themselves enfeebled through disease, laying in their far-

HEROIC MISSIOSA RIES.

487

off lonely graves their loved ones who fell martyrs to their pious
zeal. For these plutnelesn heroes of the Christian chivalry all
human praise is cold and meaj^re ; hut the " Well done ! " of the
Lord they loved is their exceeilin;^ great reward.
The heroic McDougalls, father and sons, will be forever

Rkv. Georqb M. McDouoall.

associated in the annals of missionary heroism throughout the
North- West. The elder McDougall was a pathfinder of empire
as well as a pioneer of Christianity. After many years spent
in preaching the Gospel to the native tribes he died a tragic
death, but one not unfitting the hei'oism of his life. While out
on a hunting excursion with his sons he >-: "me lost on the

488

A TRAGIC DEATH.

prairie, and not till after several days was his frozen body
found wrapped in icy sleep beneath the wintry sky. His
missionary son walks with equal zeal in the footsteps of his
sain'ed sire, and during the late North-West revolt rendered

Indian Missionary.

important service in assisting to pacify the restive Indian tribes.
These and other Indian missionaries often assumed the native
dress, as in our engraving, which was comfortable, enduring and
well fitted to resist the wear and tear of their lengthened
travels and hard work.

A DYING RACE.

489

Few spectacles are more sad than that of the decay of the
once numerous and powerful native tribes that inhabited these
vast regions. The extinction of the race in the not very remote
future seems its inevitable destiny. Such has already been the
fate of portions of the great aboriginal family. In the library
of Harvard Universitj', near Boston, is an old and faded volume,
which, nevertheless, possesses an intensely pathetic interest. In
all the world there is none who comprehends the meaning of its
mysterious characters. It is a sealed book, and its voice is silent
forever. Yet its language was once the vernacular of a numer-
ous and powerful tribe. But of those who spoke that tongue
there runs no kindred drop of blood in any human veins. It is
the Bible translated for the use of the New England Indians by
Eliot, the great apostle of their race.

That worn and meagre volume, with its speechless pages, is
the symbol of a mighty fact. Like the bones of the dinornis
and the megatherium, it is the relic of an extinct creation. It
is the only vestige of a vanished race — the tombstone over the
grave of a nation. And similar to the fate of the New England
Indians seems to be the doom of the entire aboriginal popula-
tion of this continent. They are melting away like winter
snows before the summer's sun. Their inherent character is
averse to the genius of modern civilization. You cannot mew
up the eagle of the mountain like the barn-door fowl, nor tame
the forest stag like the stalled ox. So to the red man the tram-
mels and fetters of civilized life are irksome. They chafe his
very soul. Like the caged eagle, he pines for the freedom of
the forest or the prairie. He now stalks a stranger through the
heritage of his fathers — an object of idle curiosity, where once
he was lord of the soil. He dwells not in our cities. He assimi-
lates not with our habits. He lingers among us in scattered
reserves, or hovers upon the frontier of civilization, ever pushed
back by its advancing tide. To our remote descendants the
story of the Indian tribes will be a dim tradition, as that of the
Celts and Picts and ancient Britons is to us. Already their
arrow-heads and tomahawks are collected in our museums as
strange relicn of a bygone era. Our antiquaries, even new,
speculate with a puzzled interest on their memorial mounds and

490

OUR WARDS.

barrows with feelings akin to those excited by the pyramids of
Gizeh, or the megaliths of Stonehenge.

We of the white race are in the position of warders to these
weak and perishing tribes. They Ipok up to our beloved Sove-
reign as their " Great Mother." We are their elder and stronger

InDiAX Typ£, with Eaole Headuress.

brethren — their natural protectors and guardians. The Gov-
eiiinient, it is true, has exercised a paternal care over the
Indians. It has gathered them into reserves, and bestowed
upon them annual gifts and pensions. But the white man's
civilization has brought more of bane than of blessing. His
vices have taken root more deeply than his virtues ; and the

CHIEF BRANT.

491

diseases he has introduced have, at times, threatened the
extermination of the entire race.

Many whole tribes have, through the influence of the mis-
sionaries, become Christianized, and many individuals, as John
Sunday and Peter Jones, have become distinguished advocates

Indian Tvfk, with Beabs' Claws Neoklaoh.

of their race who have pleaded their cause with pathetic
eloquence on public platforms in Great Britain. One of the
ablest of these civilized Indians was Chief Joseph Brant, whose
portrait we give. He was distinguished for his unswerving
loyalty to the British, and gallantly fought for king and country
during two bloody wars.

492

PAGAN RITES.

Many of these tribes are still pagan, and sacrifice the white
dog, worship the great Manitou, and are the prey of cunning
medicine-men and of superstitious fears, Others give an
unintelligent observance to the ritual of a ceremonial form
of Christianity, and regard the cross only as a more potent

Thaykndinaoa— Chief Joseph Brant.

fetish than their ancestral totem. As the white race has, in
many respects, taught them to eat of the bitter fruit of the
tree of knowledge of good and evil, be it theirs to pluck for
tliem the healing leaves of the tree of life ! As they have
occupied their ancient inheritance, be it theirs to point them to
a more enduring country, an inheritance incorruptible and

Pawnee Ciiiek im Fill War Dress.

494

REGINA.

undeiiled — fairer fields and lovelier plains than even the fabled

hunting-grounds of their fathers —

" In the Iiingdom of Ponomah,
In the region of the west wind,
In the land of the Hereafter."

THROUGH THE NORTH-WEST TERRITORIES.

We resume our journey over the Canadian Pacific Railway
at the western confines of Manitoba. The sun went down in
crimson splendour, and during the night Broadview, Qu'Appelle,
Regina, Moosejaw, Swift Current, and a score of other places
were passed. I must be dependent for an account of places
passed by night on the excellent guide book published by the
Canadian Pacific Railway.

Regina is the capital of the Province of Assiniboia, and the
distributing point for the country far north and south. The
Executive Council of the North -West Territories, embracing
the provinces of Assiniboia, Alberta, Saskatchewan and Atha-
basca, meets here, and the jurisdiction of the Lieutenant-
Governor, whose residence is here, extends over all these
provinces. The headquarters of the North-West Mounted
Police with the barracks, ofiicers' quarters, offices, storehouses
and the imposing drill-hall, together make a handsome village.
Moosejaw is a railway divisional point and a busy market
town near the western limit of the present settlements. The
name is an abridgment of the Indian name, which, literally
translated, is " The -creek -where -the -white -man -mended -the-
cart-with-moose-jaw-bone." The country is treeless from the
eastern border of the Regina plain to the Cypress Hills, two
hundred miles, but the soil is excellent nearly everywhere, and
the experimental farms of the railway company, which occur
at intervals of thirty miles all the way to the mountains, have
proved the sufficiency of the rainfall.

Next day the general features of the landscape continued
still the same. The stations, however, are farther apart, and
the settleri^ fewer in number. In some places the station house
is the only building in sight. At one such place, a couple of
tourists came out on the platform as the train came to a stop

THE LAST OF THE BUFFALO.

495

" Which side is the town, anyhow ? " said one to the other.

" The same side as the timber, of course," replied the other.
The point of the joke is that not a solitary tree was to be seen
on either .side.

Everywhere are evidences of the former presence of the
countless herds of buffalo that pastured on these plains.
Their deeply-marked trails — great grooves worn in the tough
sod — show where they sought their favourite pastures, or salt
licks, or drinking places ; and their bleaching skeletons whiten

Prairie Happy Familt.

the ground where they lay down and died, or, more likely,
were ruthlessly slaughtered for their tongues and skins. Their
bones have been gathered near the stations in great mounds —
tons and tons of them — and are shipped by the car load to the
eastern cities, for the manufacture of animal charcoal for sugar
refining. The utter extinction of the bison is one of the most
remarkable results of the advance of civilization. Ten years
ago, in their migration from south to north, they so obstructed
the Missouri River, where they crossed, that steamboats were

496

THE PROBLEM OF THE PRAIRIES.

compelled to stop in mid-strearn ; and an eye-witness assured
me he could have walked across the river on the animals'
backs. Now scarce a buffalo is to be seen, except in the far
valley of the Peace River, and a score of half-domesticated ones
near Winnipeg.

Among the interesting objects seen on the plains are the
remarkable little rodents known as prairie dogs. They dig
underground burrows with remarkable facility, at the mouth of
which they will sit with a cunning air of curiosity till some-
thing disturbs them when, presto, a twinkling disappearing tail
is the last that is seen of them. It is said that rattlesnakes
and owls will occupy the same burrows, but of that this deponent
sayeth not.

Numerous "slews" and shallow lakes — Rush Lake, Goose
Lake, Gull Lake, and many others — furnish feeding places for
myriads of wild fowl. Further west there is evidence of alkali
in the soil, in the glistening, snow-white and saline incrusta-
tions, where these shallow, bitter pools have dried up. The
origin of these vast prairies is one of the most difficult problems
of science. They have been attributed to the annual burning
of the long grass, which would effectually destroy the germs or
sapling stems of trees, while the toughness of the prairie soil
would prevent their seeds from taking root. Dr.' Winchell
attributes the deep black prairie soil of Illinois to the gradual
drying up of an old shallow lake. The same may have been
the origin of the Red River prairie region, which has frequently,
within recent times, been floooded by the overflowing river.
But on the high upland prairie of the North- West this explana-
tion fails ; unless, indeed, the shallow lakes and " slews " once
covered the entire region.

The presence of the Mounted Police is evidently a terror to
evil-doers, especially to whiskey smugglers and horse-thieves.
The police have a smart military look with their scarlet tunics,
white helmets, spurred boots, and riding trousers. Their arras
are a repeating carbine and a six-shooter, with a belt of
cartridges. They made a more than perfunctory search for
liquor on the train ; an Irish immigrant was very indignant at
this interference with the liberty of the subject. A good deal

UNDER RAN.

497

of
or
at
ftal

of liquor was formerly smuggled in barrels of sugar and the
like, and some villainous concoctions are still brought in by
traders from the American frontier. It is a glorious thing that
throu!:,'iiout so large an area of our country the liquor traffic is
undei ban. Qod grant that these fresh and virgin prairies may

continue forever uncursed by the blight of strong drink ! The
granting of permits, however, I was told, gives frequent oppor-
tunities for evading the prohibition.

At many of the stations a few Indians or half-breeds may be
seen, but the first place at which I observed the red man with
painted face and feathers, brass ear-rings and necklace, and

498

INDIAN TRAFFICKING.

other savage finery, was at Maple Creek station, near MecUcino
Hat. He is not a very heroic figure, and the squaws looic still
worse. They were wrapped in dirty blankets, carrying their

■A

■<

<
■II

■J

■<

papooses tucked in at their backs. They had large, coarse
mouths, and their heads were covered only with their straight,
black hair. They were selling buffalo horns, from which the
rough outer surface had been chipped or filed off, — the hard

MEDICINE HA T.

499

black core being polished by the hand to a lustrous smoothness.
They exhibited only one pair at a time, and when that was sold
they would jerk another pair, a little better, from under their
blankets. Fifty or seventy-five cents would purchase a pair
selling for three or four times that price at Winnipeg.

At Medicine Hat, six hundred and forty miles from Winnipeg,
we cross the South Saskatchewan by the fine bridge shown in
the engraving. The country round here has a somewhat barren
look, the bare clay hills being carved and scarred into steep
escarpments by wind and rain. Here numerous Indian types
were seen, including one industrious fellow with a cart, who was
selling water drawn from the river for twenty-five cents a
barrel. An extensive police barracks, over which waved the
Union Jack, crowned a neighbouring hill, and in the valley was
a camp of Indian tepees, as their skin lodges are called. Some
two thousand cattle, and as many sheep from Montana, had just
been driven in, enough to freight one hundred and fifty cars for
the east. The Mounted Police were guarding them from cattle
thieves, Indian or white. One detachment were in pursuit of
a band of Piegans, who had stolen some horses.

In the river lay the steamer Bavonem, shown in the wood-cut
— a somewhat primitive-working stern-wheeler with open sides.
From here, at high water, is open navigation for over a thousand
miles through the two Saskatchewans and Lake Winnipeg to
the Red Kiver. A branch railway leads to the famous coal
mines at Lethbridge, near Fort McLeou.

As one rides day after day over the vast and fertile prairies
of the great North-West, he cannot help feeling the question
come home again and again to his mind — What shall the future
of these lands be ? The tamest imagination cannot but kindle
at the thought of the grand inheritance God has given to us
and to our children in this vast domain of empire. Almost the
whole of Europe, omitting Russia and Sweden, might be placed
within the prairie region of the North-West ; and a population
greater than that of Europe may here find happy homes. The
prophetic voice of the seer exclaims :

500 THE FOUNDATIONS OF EMPIRE,

I honr tho truiid of pionuurs,

Of nntions yot to bo,
Tho first l((w WHsh of wftvoB, whoro soon

Slinll roll IV human sen.

Tho rudiments of ompiro horo

Aro pliistic yot and warm ;
Tho chaos of a mighty world

Is rounding into form.

Behind tho scared squaw's birch canno,

Tho stoamor smokes and raves ;
And city lots are staked for sale,

Above old Indian graves.

The child is now living who shall live to see great province*
carved out of these North-West territories, and great cities
strung like pearls along its iron roads and water-ways. Now
is the hour of destiny ; now is the opportunity to mould the
future of this vast domain — to lay deep and strong and stable
the foundations of the commonweal, in those Christian institu-
tions which shall be the corner-stone of our national greatness.

To quote again from Whittier :

Wo cross the prairie as of old

The pjigrims crossed the sea, '

To make the West as they the Eact

The homestead of the free !

We go to plant her common schools

On distant prairie swells.
And give the SaV«b- ths of the wild

The music of Ues bells.

Upbearing, like Ibo ark of old,

The Bible >n. our van.
Wo go to test the truth of God

Against the fraud of man.

While other Churches have rendered immense service to
Christianity and civilization in this vast region, I am more
familiar with the missionary work of the Methodist Church.
That Church has no cause to be ashamed of its record in this
heroic work. It has been a pathfinder of Protestant missions
throughout the vast regions stretching from Nelson River ta

PIONEER MISSIONARIES.

501

the slopes of the Rocky Mountains. Nearly fifty years ago,
when these regions were less accessible than is the heart of
Africa today, those pioneer nussionaries, Rundle and Evans,

planted the Cross and preached the Gospel to the wandering
Indians of the forest and the plains. Nor have they been
without their heroic successois from that day to this.

602

PRAIRIE TRADERS.

We are glad to have an opportunity of presenting here, from
the pen of a successful Presbyterian missionary, an account of
the nature and difficulties of mission-work among the white
settlers in the North- West Territories.

"A few years ago," says Mr. Mackenzie, "vast herds of buffalo
wandered about over these plains and among the foothills of
the Rockies, furnishing the Indian with all that he needed.
Then whiskey-traders came to buy robes — hardened, reckless
fellows, who often had to fortify themselves against the attacks
of the people t/hom they cheated. The whole West was then
in a lawless, desperate condition. McDougall, the missionary,
tells us how he used to sit up at night when he was travelling,
lest his horses should be stolen ; and it was very much owing
to his urgency that the Mounted Police were sent out in 1874.
They had to travel by the Missouri to Benton, then made a
desperate march o,cross the plains in the parching heat. Beside
the Old Man's River they built log huts wherein to bide the
winter, and the station was ultimately known as Fort McLeod.
Traders gathered round, and soon the place was a distributing
point for the North. The white tilts of the prairie schooners,
laden with all kinds of freight, were more frequently seen, as
their eleven or twelve yoke of oxen were hurried at the reck-
less speed of from twelve to fifteen miles a day by the driver's
heavy whip with his sixteen-foot lash — urged also by profanity
not in any way measurable. And in a few years a very large
business was going on."

At Morleyville, in this vicinity, a Methodist mission was
established by John McDougall, in 1871, three years before
the Mounted Police arrived in the country. At the "Blood
Reserve," Fort McLeod, another Methodist mission was estab-
lished in 1878. In 1884 Mr. Mackenzie was sent as the first
Presbyterian missionary to Fort McLeod. He thus describes
the nature of his work — a description in large part api)licable
to most mission work in the North-West : —

"A store-room in the deserted barracks was secured, and
eleven people gathered to hear the Word on the Sabbath.
One of the hearers that first day was a granddaughter of a
Covenanting minister, and she was most helpful ia the work.

PRAIRIE MORALS.

503

and
ath.
£ a
ork.

Many of the men were respectable, but quite careless. So
accustomed had they become to their surroundings that they
had ceased to notice wickedness, and were hardened to evil.
Some of them had not listened to a minister for ten or twenty
years.. Naturally they found the saloons more familiar, and
saw no reason why there should be innovations ; so came to the
conclusion that one made public who ?aid : ' The missionary's a
kind of a man I have no manner of use for.'

" There were educated men, too, who had fallen to the depths.
One might meet a doctor working as a common labourer to
dupply himself with liquor; or find a relative of Lord Macaulay's
presiding over a squaw household ; or see the next heir to the
title of a nobleman, whose name appears in our hymn-book,
living a most ignoble life. One notably »rofane character usod
to carry a copy of Virgil with him to aad at odd hours.

•' Then there were many others who were openly wicked.
One might pass on the street men whose hands had been red
with human blood. The professional gambler, with sinister
look, lowering brows and averted eyes, might be seen lounging
about during the day in preparation for the night with its
excitement. And such had no lack of victims; the gaming
table seemed to fascinate them as the cold glittering eyes of the
snake fascinate a bird. They seem to lose will-power and
cannot but play. One I knew set out several times for his
home in the East with thousands of dollars of hard-earned
money, but would begin to play somewi ere on the road in the
hope of gaining more. And with coat thrown off and perspira-
tion streaming from his face, would stake larger and larger
sums till all was gone; then come back to work again dispirited
and hopeless. Another lost all his property in a night or two,
that years of patient toil had gained. Yet neither could resist
the fascination.

" It would be strange if things were otherwise ; for the only
places of entertainment are the saloons. Young men who have
no homes have literally nowhere else to go to spend their
evenings. There they must join with a rollicking crowd of
cowboys and travellers, freighters, traders, teamsters, gambler^,
and must spend money for the good of the house or be con-

504

MISSION WORK.

sidered mean — and meanness is the unpardonable sin among
Western men.

" These men were difficult to reach ; many knew more of
IngersoU's writings than of the Bible. Their beliefs were too
often formed to justify evil lives, and they did not want to
know the truth ; they loved darkness because their deeds were
evil. Pioneer mission-work bears some resemblance to the
invasion of a country, and we must deal principally with
enemies. Proper meeting-places we.'e not always to be had.
The Word was spoken in little huts, daubed within and without
with mud, in u billiard saloon over the tables, in hotel* dining-
rooms, in the police barracks, in the miners' messroom, in tii >.
crowded stopping-place by the ^ay, in ranches to the assemblv.
cowboys, in shacks where lonely bachelors lived. O*" je during
service I saw through the open church-door four Indians in-
tently gambling in a shed only a few yards away. A most
important work was done in house-to-house visitation, for many
were too far away to attend services. The people were always
kind ; their hospitality was as free as the pure crystal air of
the West that revives and exhilarates the stranger. Then
there were wayside chances ; a casual greeting, an invitation to
service, an hour of travel together, gave me chance to speak a
few serious words to someone. If I were asked how a mis-
sionary can most effectively work out there, my observation
would lead me to answer, chiefly by being a man among
men and showing intense human interest. The people have
sympathy for manliness and honour, and despise a man who
comes to them with the clerical simper, or the Inisterial
twang, or who tries to treat them with holy condescension.

" Are there not privations ? Oh, yes. There will be long
journeys. Dwellings are so scattered that there may be danger
from exposure to cold in winter. The missionary cannot ei^oid
the fatigue of days in the saddle, the discomfort of soak' v '.y
the rain-storms that .«^weep the prairie, or the weariness of
toiling through pathless snow. His bed may be one night sacks
of grain, the next a bunch of hay or a plank floor with only a
blanket or buffalo robe for covering ; or he may chance upon
comfortable quarters. But the missionary does not complain ;

THE ROCKIES.

505

he is only taking part in the lot of others. They are willing to
suffer from cold and wet and weariness for the sake of gain.
Every you"g man who goes out there to make his fortune must
rouo-h it to some extent. And where men, for the sake of
worldly wealth, are making sacrifices of comfort, he is a poor
affair who would not do as much, for the sake of Christ, as they
do for money."

THROUGH THE ROCKIES.

I must, however, proceed with a brief and inadequate sketch
of the wonderful ride over the mountain section of the Canadian

Foothills of the Rockies.

un;

Pacific Railway. As we approached the western limit of the
prairie section the sun went oown in goMen glory, but no sign
of the mountains was in sigh*^. Beyond Medicine Hat the
railway rises to the high piairie-plaleau whicli extends, gradu-
ally rising, to the base j1' the mountains. Cattle ranches are
spreading over it, and farms appear at intervals. From
Langevin, the higher peaks of the Rocky Mountains may be
seen, one hundred and fifty miles away. At Crowfoot they may
again be seen. Beyond Gleichen the Rockies come into full
view — a magnificent line of snowy peaks extendiag far along
the southern and western horizon.

506

CALGARY.

Calgary (altitude, 3,388 feet ; population, two thousand four
hundred) is the most important, as well as the handsomest,

town between Brandon and Vancouver. It is charmingly
situated on a hill-girt plateau, overlooked by the white peaks

Approaching the Rockies.

508

ENTERING THE ROCKIES.

of the Rockies. It is the centre of the trade of the great
ranching country and the chief source of supply for the mining
districts in the mountains beyond. Lumber is largely made
here from logs floated down Bow River. Extensive ranches
are now passed in rapid succession, — great herds of horses in
the lower valleys, thousands of cattle on the terraces, and
myriads of sheep on the hill-tops may be seen at or.ce, making
a picture most novel and interesting. Saw-mills and coal-

'ti

Wi^y^-'^^ ' ">.,

^'^i""' ,^>'^^-..^

At Canmobe.

mines appear along the
-s^> ''-■=- valley. After crossing

over the Bow River a
magnificent outlook is obtained, toward the left, where the
foothills rise in successive tiers of sculptured heights to the
snowy range behind them. " By-and-bye," writes Lady Mac-
donald, " the wide valleys change into broken ravines, and lo !
through an opening in the mist, made rosy with early sunlight,
we see, far away up in the sky, its delicate pearly tip clear
against the blue, a single snow-peak of the Rocky Mountains.

NIGHT SCENE.

509

Our coarse natures cannot at first appreciate the exquisite
aerial grace of that solitary peak that seems on its way to
heaven ; but, as we look, a gauzy mist passes over, and it has
vanished."

The mountains now rise abruptly in great masses, streaked
and capped with snow and ice, and just beyond Kananaskis
station a bend in the line brings the train between two almost
vertical walls of dizzy height. This is the gap by which the

Summit 07 the Rockies.

Kocky Mountains are entered. At Canmore, the foothills of
the Rockies are fairly reached, and the repose of the plains
gives place to the energy of the mountains. Banff I passed
in the night, but I visited it on my return journey and shall
describe it later on. It was a clear, starlight night, and reclin-
ing in my berth I watched the snow-capped mountains come
nearer and nearer into view, and then glide rapidly by. Great
Orion, the mighty hunter, stalked his prey along the mountain
tops, and Bootes held in leash his hounds. Arcturus looked
down with undimmed eye, as in the days of Job ; and Alde>

510

MORNING ON THE MOUNTAINS.

baran and Alcyone, in gleaming mail, outwatched the waning
night. The silver peaks looked ghost-like in the faint light
of the stars. At last the slow dawn clomb the sky, the moun-
tain's cheeks blushed with the sun's first kiss, the rosy glow
crept slowly down the long slopes, and the mists and darkness
fled away. I came out on the rear platform of the car while
the train swept down the wild canyon of the Kicking Horse
Pass. A rapid mountain stream rushed swiftly down, leaping

rj;V«:.' -J,

:;te

.^#^ij;

On the Kiokiko Horse.

from crag to crag, and
lashed to snowy rage, to
find after many wind-
ings the distant Pacific. " The scenery is now sublime. The
line clings to the mountain-side at the left, and the valley
on the right rapidly deepens until the river is seen as a gleam-
ing thread a thousand feet below. Looking to the north, one
of the grandest mountain-valleys in the world stretches away
to the north, with great white, glacier-bound peaks on either
side." The scene strikingly reminded me of a wild gorge and
mountain vista on the T^te Noire Pass, in Switzerland.

EXTENT.

611

BRITISH COLUMBIA.

AS we have now entered British Columbia it will be ap-
propriate to take a general survey of this largest of the
provinces. It forms the western face of the Dominion of
Canada ; and it would bo difficult to say whether its geogra-
phical position or its great resources are of more value. It
has a coast line of about five hundred miles on the Pacific
Ocean, with innumerable bays, harbours and inlets. It has
an area of 341,305 square miles, and if it be described from
the characteristics of its climate and great mineral wealth, it
might be said to be the Great Britain and California of the
Dominion. It is as large as Norway, France and Belgium
taken together. We quote from the Government Guide Book.

The province is divided into two parts — the Island of Van-
couver and the main land. The island is about three hundred
miles in length, with an average breadth of sixty miles, con-
taining an area of about twenty thousand square miles.

First among the resources of British Columbia may be classed
its mineral wealth. The surveys in connection with the
Canadian Pacific Railway have established the existence of gold
over the whole extent of the province. Large values have
already been taken from the gold mines which have been
worked. This precious metal is found all along the Fraser and
Thompson rivers, and on Vancouver Island, and more recently
at the Cassiar Mines, reached through Alaska.

Want of roads to reach them and want of capital seem to
have ' 'Cen the obstacles in the way of more generally working
the gold mines in the past. These obstacles are, however, in
the way of being overcome. Copper is found in abundance in
British Columbia; and silver mines have been found in the
Fraser Valley. The coal mines of British Columbia are prob-
ably even more valuable than its gold mines. Bituminous coal

512

RESOURCES.

is found in Vancouver Island in several places ; and anthracite
coal, of very excellent quality, on Queen Charlotte's Island.
This is said to bo superior to Pennsylvania anthracite, and
although coal is found in California, that which is mined in
British Columbia commands the highest price in San Francisco.
His Excellency the Marquis of Lome said respecting it, in a
speech at Victoria, British Columbia: — "The coal from the
Nanaimo mines leads the markets at San Francisco. Nowhere
else in these countries is such coal to be found, and it is now
being worked with an energy that bids fair to make Nanaimo
one of tho chief mining stations on the continent. It is of
incalculable importance, not only to this province of tho
Dominion, but also to the interests of the empire, that our fleets
and mercantile marine, as well as the continental markets, should
be supplied from this source."

The forest lands are of great extent, and the timber most
valuable. They are found throughout nearly the whole extent
of the province. The principal trees are the Douglas pine,
Menzies fir, yellow fir, balsam, hemlock, white pine, cedar, yellow
cypress, arbor vitae, oak, yew, white maple, arbutus, alder, dog-
wood, aspen and cherry. The Douglas pine is almost universal
on the sea coast, and up to the Cascade range. It yields spars
from ninety to one hundred feet in length, can often be obtained
one hundred and fifty feet free from knots, and has squared
forty-five inches for ninety feet. It is thought to be the
strongest pine or fir in existence. Broken in a gale, the stem is
splintered to a height of at least twenty feet, and it is astonish-
ing to see how small a portion of the trunk will withstand the
leverage of the whole tree. The timber contains a great deal
of resin, and is exceedingly durable. The bark resembles cork,
is often eight or nine inches thick, and makes splendid fuel.

The white pine is common everywhere. The Scotch fir is
found on the bottom lands with the willow and cottonwood.
The cedar abounds in all parts of the country, and attains an
enormous growth. Hemlock spruce is very common. The maple
is universal. The arbutus grows very large, and the wood in
colour and texture resembles box. There are two kinds of oak,
much of it of good size and quality.

an
pie

in
lak,

FOREST WEALTH.

Tljo Fiascr River and its tributaries, with the numerous
lakes communicating with them, furnish great facilities for tho
conveyance of timber. The Lower Fraser country especially
is densely wooded. Smaller streams and numerous inlets and
arms of the sea furnish facilities for the region further north.

Every stick in these wonderful forests, which so an)ply and
generously clothe the Sierras from the Cascade range to tho
distant Rockv Mountains, will be of value as communication
opens up. Tho great arch of timber lands beginning on the
west of Lake Manitoba, circles round to Edmonton, comes
down among the mountains, so as to include the whole of the
province. The business of the canning of salmon, which has
assumed such large proportins along the Pacific shore, great as
it is, is as yet only in its infancy, for there is many a river
swarming with fish from the time of the first run of salmon in
spring to the last run of other varieties in tho autumn, on which
canneries are sure to be established. The fisheries are prob
ably the richest in the world.

The Province of British Columbia cannot be called an ajrri-
cultural country throughout its whole extent. But it yet
possesses very great agricultural resources, especially in view of
its mineral and other sources of wealth, as well as its position.
It possesses tracts of arable land of very great extent. A
portion of these, however, require artificial irrigation. This is
easily obtained, and not expensive, and lands so irrigated are of
very great fertility. Land one thousand seven hundied feet
above the level of the sea, thus irrigated, has yielded as high as
forty bushels of wheat per acre.

The tracts of lands suitable for grazing purposes are of
almost endless extent, and the climate very favourable, shelter
being only required for sheep, and even this not in ordinary
seasons. On the Cariboo road there is a plain one hundred and
fifty miles long, and sixty or eighty wide, and between the
Thompson and Fraser rivers there is an immense ti'act of arable
and grazing land. The hills and plains are covered with bunch
grass, on which the cattle and horses live all winter, and its
nutritive qualities are said to exceed the celebrated blue grass
and clover of Virginia.

Field Station and Mount Stephen.

51G

MOLWT STEP HEX

The valuable fisheries, forests and mines on the extreme
western end of the road, the agricultural produce of the great
prairie region, and the mines, timber, lumljer and minerals of
the eastern section, will be more than sufHcient to ensure an
immense local and throu-h traffic over the Canadian Pacific
Railway. In addition to this, the trade fiowing from ocean to
ocean, from east to west and from west to east, will undoubtedly
make the great Canadian highway one of the most important
trunk lint < in America. Already branch and independent rail-

MOKNI.NG ON THE MOUNTAINS.

ways ure being (onstructed to act as feeders to the main line.
We now I'esume our trip through the Rockies. At Field Station,
at the foot of the Kicking Horse Pass, we take on an addi-
tioujil engine of tremendous pov/er and weight, to push is up
the a>?cending g.ade. Mount Stephen is the highest peak in
the range, eight thousand feet above the valley, and dominates
for many a mi'e over all the Titan brotherhood. On its mighty
slope is seen, high overhead, a shining green glacier, eight
hundred feet in thickness, which is slowly pressing forward
and over a vertical clifi' of great height. When its highly-
coloured donte and spires are illuminated by the sun it seems to
rise as a flame .shooting into the sky.

9mmmm

} lien EST PEAK.

517

I
J

151}

MorvT Stei'ukn, near Summit of the Rockies.

Ill .

- f

518

MINING CAMP.

At unfrequent intervals we pass little groups of log-houses
and mining camps, rejoicing in such imposing names as Golden
or Silver City. As we sweep up the Beaverfoot Valley, the
vast wall of the Beaverfoot mountains, with their serrated
peaks, seems in the clear atmosphere only a short walk from
the track, yet I was told it was fourteen miles away. The

Be.vver Lakk.

canyon rapidly deepens until, beyond Palliser, the mountain
sides become vertical, rising straight up thousands of feet, and
within an easy stone's-throw from wall to wall. Down this
vast chasm go the railway and the river together, the former
cro.ssinjr from side to side to ledges cut out of the solid rock,
and twisting and turning in every direction. " The supremely

R m

520

".•;>•(;..] AV)."

beautiful mountains beyond are the Selkirks, risin*,' from their
forost-clad bases and lifting their ice-crowned lieads far into
the sky. They are matchless in form, and when bathed in the
light of the afternoon sun, their radiant warmth and glory

JSUKVKYOKs' C.\M1».

of colour suggest Asgard, the celestial fity of Scandinavian
story." From Golden to Donald, the railway follows down the
Columbia on the face of the lower bench of the Rocky Moun-
tains, the Selkirks all the way in full view opposite, the soft
green streaks down their sides indicating the paths of ava-

mam

Aian

the

oun-

sofb

avii-

i'nl'

l ;jis

3 SI

522

r///^ IfER.U/TS.

lanches. At Donald, which is a divisional station, and the site
of extensive works, there is quite a larj^e collection of houses,
and some surprisingly good stores. Here 1 passed, in the
heart of the mountains, a long train of eighty-five cars of tea.
two of canned salmon, and two of seal furs, en route for New
York, on a time schedule almost as fast as a passenger train.
The road, in sweeping up the long Beaver River Valley, leaps
audaciously over .some very deep lateral gorges. The trestle-
work in places supports the track at a height of nearly three
hundred feet aljovc the brawling stream beneath.

THK IIKAUT OF THE SELKIRKS.

The grandeur culminates, however, at the Hermits, and
Mounts Macdonald and Sir Donald. The first of these rises in
bare and splintered pinnacles, like the famous "Needles" of
Charnounix, so steep that not even the snow can find lodgment
on their almost perpendicular slopes. Mount Macdorald seems
almost to impend above the track, although a deep ravine
separates it from the railway. It towers a mile and a (quarter
above the roadway in almost vertical height, its numberless
pinnacles piercing the verj'- zenith. I had to stand on the
lowest step of the car to prevent the roof from obstructing the
view of the mountain-top. Not in crossing either Alps or
Appenines have I seen such a tremendous, awe-inspiring clitf.
Roger's Pass lies between two lines of huge snow-clad peaks.
That on the north forms a prodigious amphitheatre, under
whoso parapet, seven or eight thousand feet above the valley,
half a dozen glaciers may be seen at once, and so near that
their shining green fissures are distinctly visible.

At Glacier Station, in the heart of Selkirk Ranjre in this
immediate vicinity, I stayed ofi' a day to do some climbing
among the mountains. This is a wildly beautiful spot. The
railway company has here erected a hotel and cut out roads
through the tangled forest and debris of avalanches which have
cumbered the valley with vast rock masses and shattered trunks
of trees, swept from their places like grass before a scythe.
The hotel was not open, but I had the good fortune to meet a
fellov.'-townsman, the well-known artist, Mr. Forbes, of Toronto,

t^tpnWK««OMr^ -

less
the
the
t)s or

cliff.

}aks.

inder

illey,
that

this

bing

The

oads

liave

inks

'the.

let a

mto,

In tuk Hkaut of thk Sklkikks.

i'l

524

AMOXO THE ARTISTS.

who, with Mr. O'Brien and others of the artist brotherhood,
had been painting all summer among the mountains. He

Mountain Torrent.

hospitably placed a tent at my disposal, and not soon shall I
forget the glorious camp-fire around which we gathered at night
beneath the shadows of the surrounding mountains.

n-^f'ifmBmmmmnm

■^

*^^ ,A<M\f. '■^ti

»1*.V"

["^ais-il

C*'^

*"^f-'^'r *i^

In the Selkikks— ViKw near Gl,vcier House.

ill?

526

CLIMBING A GLACIER.

I found Mr. Forbes at work on a magnificent painting of
Mount Sir Donald, an isolated pyramidal crag piercing the
very sky, wonderfully like the Matterhorn in Switzerland.
This painting, and a companion piece of the Hermits, have
since been exhibited in the Toronto Art Gallery. I scrambled
over the glacier, I penetrated its translucent caves, I climbed
over the huge lateral mortiine, and I tried to climb the steep
wall of the deep valley over which this deep, slow-moving ice
river flowed. I should have enjoyed the climb very much

Glacier in the Selkirks.

better if I had not been handicapped with a revolver — the first
I ever carried in my life — which Mr. Forbes advised me to take,
as he had the day before seen a bear's track in the path. As I
clambered over the ice I was afraid the plaguey thing would go
off, and perhaps leave me hora de combat in some crevasse, or at
the foot of some crag or cliff. As I returned in the twilight I "
fired it off to announce my approach, and woke the immemorial
echoes of the mountain-girded valley. Not soon shall I forget
the dying gleam of the sunset on Mount Sir Donald, paling
from rosy red to ashen gray and spectral white. This spot will

A TMOSPHERIC EFFECTS.

527

Ifirst
[ake,

LS I

go
br at

it I
prial
Irget
lling

will

become one of the greatest attractions of the mountains. Within
five days of Toronto one may study mountain scenery and
glacier action as well as in the heart of Switzerland. The tints
of the ice — a transparent blue, like sapphire — were exquisite
loveline.ss.

Mr. L. R, O'Brien, the accomplished President of the Ontario-
Art Academy, thus describes this lovely spot :

" The interest of this scenery is inexhaustible, not only fronv
the varied aspects it pre.seuts from different points of view, but
from the wonderfiil atmospheric effects. At one moment the
mountains seem quite close, masses of rich, strong colour; thea
they will appear far away, of the faintest pearly gray. At one
time every line and form is sharp and distinct ; at another, the
mountains melt and mix themselves up in the clouds so that
earth and sky are
almost undistinguish-
able. The mountain
sides are the softest
velvet now, and pres-
ently they look like
cast metal. The fore-
grounds, too, away
from the desolation
made by the numer-
ous cuttings and banks of the railway, are rich and luxuriant;
large-leaved plants and flowers clothe the slopes. The trees,
where the timbermen have not culled out the finest, are most
picturesque. The study of these scenes, in all the wealth of
their luxuriant detail, which is requisite in order at all to paint
them, is wonderfully interesting and delightful — painting them
is heart-breaking;— so little of all this beauty can be placed
upon paper or canvas, and of that little much, I fear, will be
incomprehensible to dwellers upon plains."

In this immediate vicinity great works were going on in the
construction of miles on miles of snow-sheds, — not slight sheds
to keep the snow off the track, as I supposed, but tremendous
structures built in solid crib-work filled with stone along the
mountain-side, over which is a sloping roof, with timbers-

The S.now S11EU8.

^^_,.f

US'

I 'Sli

MiKKOR Lake — In the Rockies.

THE " TOTE KiKin:'

529

twelve Ity fifteen inches, <V ^i<,'neil to throw otl the avfthmclica
of rock, ico and snow from the overhang! nif mountains. Of
these sheds there are said to he four or five miles in all, con-
structed hy the labours of some f )ur thousand uten, at a cost of
a million and a half of dollars. The principal construction
camp is at Rof^ers' Pass, near (llacier Station. 1 walked hack

'!''^:rw!C5!PB!W

In TllK Il.LICILI.IWAKT

to it over the old "tote road," throut^h a most romantic valley,
in full view of the glorious glacier which wound its sinuous
way, a river of glittering ice, down the mountain-side. These
construction camps swarm with vile harpies, both men and
women, who pander to the vices of the workmen. Of over a
score of houses at Rogers' Pa-ss, I judge that three-fourths were
drinking saloons — or worse. A force of Mounted Police main-
34

530

A CLhVS'J'A'CCT/O.y CAMP.

IS;,

Irr

tains order; but as tliis place is out of the Hi [uor prohibition
limits, it must for some time ut'ter pay-day be a veritable
pandemonium, all the more terrible because surrounded by such

a subhaie amphitheatre of the mountains of God. Yet the
religious needs of the men are not altojifether neglected. A poor
cripple, who had broken his leg in wrestling with a fellow-

ROPE FERRY.

581

workman, told me that on Sunday, once a month, a little fellow
came to pi each in the camp. " Ho can't preach worth a cont,"

he said, " but the men all swear by him because he is such a
good-hearted cuss."

532

MOUNT HOOD.

Just beyond Glacier Station is one of the most remarkable
engineering feats on the line — a great loop which the road
makes, returning within a stone's-throw of the place of depar-

ture, but at a much lower level. It was on a glorious afternoon
on which I rode through the Selkirks along the brawling
lUicilliwaet, past Albert Canyon and the magnificent Twin

a
o

o
1-!

loon
;ling
.'win

MOUNT HOOD.

533

Mount Hood, ll,2'Jr> Fkkt Hicii.

Fraiil thr Culniiihin llinr.

Ik I

534

ALBERT CANYON.

Buttes, through the valley of the Columbia, and up the wild
fforjre of Eagle Pass and Griffin Lake. The air was clear as
crystal, and the mountain peaks were cut sharp as a cameo
a^fainst the deep blue sky. The conductor obligingly stopped
the train at points of special interest to enable us to inspect the
gorge of Albert Canyoti, nearly three hundx'ed feet deep and only
twenty feet wide, with perpendicular sides smooth as a wall ;
and to scramble down to a natural soda fountain in another
romantic ravine.

Salmon Wheel and FisiiEnMAX.

At Revelstoke, which is a railway divis-
»»»'*''^ ional point, we cross the Columbia River on

a long bridge. The town is situated on the river bank, half a
mile from the station. The Columbia, which has made a great
detour around the northern extremity of the Selkirks, while
the railway has come directly across, is here much larger than
at Donald, from which it has fallen one thousand and fifty feet.
It is nivigable southward to the International boundary, two
hundred miles distant. The Gold range is at once entered by
Eagle Pass.

THE SALMON WHEEL.

The man who invented the western river salmon wheel
was a genius. The laziest fisherman who ever baited a hook

FISHIXG BY MACHIXKRY.

535

could ask for no easier way of landing fish. And only the fact
that it can only be used at certain points on the stream pre-
vents this machine from exterminating the salmon in one
season. Imagine a common undershot wheel, with the buckets
turned the wrong way about. This is set in a high, narrow
flume near the bank of the river where the current is very
swift. From the down-stream end of this Huine, extended
outward, at an angle of forty-five degrees, are two upright
fences, formed by pickets driven closely together into the
bottom of the river, and wired to keep them from wa.shing
away. Just above the wheel (which is some ten feet in

SlIUSWAP L.\KE.

diameter), at the up-streatn end, is a platform, from which a
box-flume runs to the shore. This is the machine. Now let
us see how it works. When the salmon are ruiming, as every-
body knows, they come up the Fraser and Columbia rivers by
millions. The streams are very deep, and a large percentage
always succeed in getting to the breeding grounds in safety.
When salmon are running up a river they are constantly on
the lookout for small streams in which to spawn. Also, where
the current is very swift, they are unable to make headway in
the centre of the stream and consecjuently seek the more quiet
water near the bank. Of these two instincts, the inventor of
the fish wheel took a mean advantage. At the Cascades, for

536

yLV UXFAIR ADVANTAGE.

instance, where tlie water is very swift, he sets his wheel.
Here come the fish, hugging the bank by thousands, great
black fellows, from two to four feet long, heading resolutely up
stream. Nothing can turn them backward. That wonderful
instinct of nature which insures the preservation of species is
nowhere better developed than in a salmon. But in this
instance it proves his destruction. Now they are just below
that widespread fence. The current which is rushing through
the flume and turning the big wheel at a lively pace attracts
their attention. The upper fence, which sets nearly squarely
across the stream, makes quiet water here, and this flow seems
to come from the bank. This, to the -salmon's mind, is evi-

Near Kamloofs.

dently the mouth of a sliallow creek. Here is a spawning
ground to our liking, and up this little stream we will go. So
they crowd up the two narrowing fences toward the fatal wheel.
The first fish reaches it, goes in with a rush to overcome the
current, is caught by a bucket and up he goes high in the air,
while every bucket brings up another and another till there is
a procession of ascending fi.sh. At the top the velocity throws
the fish violently upon the platform, from which he shoots
down the flume to a great tank on the shore. Here come the
fish, crowding each other forward to that busy wheel — none can
go under, nor to one side. None will go back. And once a
school starts for a wheel, the owner can consider that he has a

538

A RECKLESS POLICY.

title-deed of the entire lot. One wheel will run a cannery.
Day and nii^ht, while the run lasts, they come ilying up the
wlieel and shooting down the flume, in a continuous stream.
Fortunately thei'o are but few places on the river where wheels
can be worked with this result. Where the fish can keep in

>
r

On Cakiboo Creek

the middle of the river few can be caught in this way. But the
men who control these points are making fortunes. As it is,
salmon are rapidly disappearing from the Columbia.

During the night we passed much fine scenery, of which I
got only partial glimpses as wo swept around the great curves

A CLACTER.

539

■■■■■Ili

£40

BLACK CANYON.

of the Thompson River, past Sicamous, Shuswap, Kamloops,
Savona's Ferry, and many another strangely named place,
destined yet to become familiar as scenes of blended sublimity
and beauty.

At Savona's Ferry the mountains draw near, and the series
of Thompson River canyons is entered, leading westward to the
Fraser through marvellous scenery. From here to Port Moody,

the nearest point on Pacific
tide-water, the raihvaj^ was
built by the Dominion Gov-
ernment and transferred to
the company, in 1886. Ashcroft is the point of departure
for Cariboo, Barkerville, and other settlements in the northern
interior of British Columbia. Trains of freijrht waggons, drawn
by from four to ten yoke of oxen, and strings of pack-mules,
laden with goods, depart from and arrive here almost daily,
pere the hills press close upon the Thompson River, which cuts
its way through a winding gorge of almost terrifying gloom
and desolation, fitly named the Black Canyon. At Thompson
Canyon the mountains draw together again, and the railway

THE FRASER,

541

winds along their face hundred.s of feet above the struggling
river. At Lytton,
the canyon Middonly
widens to admit the
Fraser, the chief rivor
of the province, which
comes down from the
north between two
grrat lines of moun-
tain peaks. The rail-
way now enters the
canyon of the united
rivers and crosses a
cantilever bridge, the
scene becoming even
wilder than before.

A.nothi;k TiJnnkl.

THE FUASEll KIVEU.

ts
m
)n

Btfore dawn I was at my post of ont-

look on the rear platform of the sleeper,

for the ride down the Fraser Valley is the

culminating point of interest on the road.

Here the difficulties of construction are

greater, the rock-cutting more tremendous,

and the .scenery more awe-inspiring than

any other place. It niakL's one's Hesh creep

to look down on the swirlinir current of the

rapid Fraser, from the train which creeps

alonjj a ledge cut in the mountain-

side, in some places by workmen let

down by ropes from above. On the

opposite side of
this deep, nar-
row canyon is
the old Cariboo
Road, climbing
the clitF in places, two thousand feet above the river. It is in

At the Cliff Foot.

542

CARIBOO ROAD,

sonio |,ai'ts built out from thu wall of tlio roclc hy woodon crih-

work, fa.stonod.ono know.s not how, to tho aliuost perpendicular

precipice. Tlii.s road from Yalo toCarilioo, built by the isolated

Province of British Columbia a score of

years a;;o, seems a jjrreuter achievement

than the construction of the Canadian

Pacific Kaiiway by this great Dominion.

.Since the opening of the railway it has

fallen partly into disrepair. Yet within

a few months the Rev. C. Watson has

travelled over a great part

of it on horseback, in a '

curriayo or on foot, lie

confessed, how-
ever, that .some
of the most dan-
gerous places al-
most frightened
the life out of
him. On our
train was Mr. VV. M. Pruyn, M.P. for
"•'■ '* '."'• ■ Lennox, who recounted his exploits in

tramping with a load on his back over
the Indian trail to Cariboo, a distance of four hundred miles,
before this road was made. In those palmy days sometimes

y^'v •-•■.•■.aw,'- ..I >• .%

'•I' L^' -I '- ■( •'

The Old Cariboo Road.

.]//.\7.\(; /.//■/■:

r)4:}

iiiineiH took out as much as SsOO in a fsin(,'le day. Hut prices
wero corruspontlinijly lii<;li : 8100 was paiil for a .shect-inm
stove; !?1 a i)()un<l for salt; iii*') a pound for buttur ; Si for a
Weekly Glohc ; .i<l4 n day for (liJ,'<,'in!,^

In some of the nidi' shanties, such as sliown in cut on pa<,'c
54."). a n»orc hicrative business was done than in many a mag-
niticcnt city warehouse.

The hardsliips of tlie miners in those early days seem, as told
to us now, almost incredible. Our engravings will give some
idea of the character of the
coiuitry, even after roads wero
constructed. But long before
there was anything but an

#i.

^;l^%4ili^il

Befokf. the Railway.

Indian trail over the mountains, the miners "packed" on mule
trains the whole outfit necessary for their operation and sus-
tenance. In some places even mules could not go, and every-
thing had to be carried on the backs of men.

A peculiar ett'tict is produced by the contrast between the
huge boulders by the river side, covered with a deep brown, or
almost velvet-black moss, and the foaming, swirling waters of
the river. Indians are seen on projecting rocks down at the
water's edge, spearing salmon or .scooping them out with dip-
nets, and on many prominent points were Indian stagings

544

STKAXGIi lli'RIAL.

[^ f

\\ i

for drying and smoking the salmon, and in many of the trees
were " cached " the rude cotfms of their dead. The engraving

■ t. , ,

iwy

on page 4S6 shows a similar practice of disposing of the dead
by the Indians of the plains. Chinamen are seen on the
occasional sand or gravel-bars, washing for gold ; and irregular

l-jMlkiUmtm

FRAS/:/^ CAXYOX.

5415

§
ca

-5

Iclencl

the

kilar

Indian farms or villages alternate with the groups of huts of
tne Chinese. The principal canyon of the Fniser extends

twenty-throe miles above Yale. Tho scenery has licon well
desciilied as 'ferocious." The great river is foroeii Itetwctm
vertical walls of black rocks where, repeatedly thrown back

"i \ in

■,i -S!

if t :
V- \ .
■j' ! -

I r

iB'.l

■0.1

546

" FEROCIOUS " SCIC.XKR \ '.

upon itself by opposing cliffs, or broken l.>y ponderous masses
of fallen rock, it madly foams and roars. The railway is cut
into the clifl's two hundred feet above, and the juttinj^ spurs
of rock are jjierced Ity tuiinols in close succession. "At iSpuzzum

IN I

Rattlesnakk (Ikaiik, B.C.

the Government road, as if seeking company in this awful
place, crosses the chasm by a su.spension bridge to the side of
the railway, and keeps with it, above or below, to Yale. Ten
miles below Spuzzum the enormous cliffs apparently shut

VALE.

547

together and seem to bar the way. The river inakas an abrupt
turn to the left, and the railway, turning to the right, disappears

into a long tunnel, and emerging
into daylight, rejoins the river."

At Yale—

a straggling
wooden town
of consider-
able impor-
tance in the

scenery is

have seen few things
that will compare with the grandeur of the mountain back-
ground of the little town, and with the gloom of the deep
canyon of the Fraser, deepening into purple shades in the dis-
tance. "Yale," says the excellent yuide book of the Canadian

:?i|

648

A MINING TOWN.

Pacific Railway, "is an outfitting point for miners and raiichtnon
northward. It occupies a bench above the river in a deep <:id
de HUG in the mountains, which rise abruptly and to a great
height on all sides. Indian huts are seen on the opposite bank,
and in the village a conspicuous joss-house indicates the pres-

Oh Tiir. LdWKu Fkaskii.

enco of ( !hinamon, who an; so(!ii wasliiiig goM on the rix'cr-liurs
for II long way below Yale. Across the river froni Hope
Station is the village of the same name — a mining-town and
trading-post, whence trails lead over tlie mountain in diHererjfc
directions. South-westward may be st^en Ifope Peaks, where
great bodies ot silver ore are expost'd, and only awaiting suit-

■^'^

':' I

hars

\o\w

arm

[rciit

liero

-•^i

Cy'A)

11 IE IA)WI:R IRASIIR.

altin I'licI to l)(! worUctI prolitahly. liclow IIopo tlui canyon
wi<l('ii.s out, nnd is soon HUCCccdiMl Ity a Itroml, l(!V('I vallc^y with
ricli soil and Iitiavy tlnihor. TIk; tudo Indian farins i,nv(! pliic*;
to l)ro!id, Wdll-cultivatod litilds, which Ix.'coiiio nion; and nion*
fVc(|u<*nt, and vcj^ctation of all kin<l.s rapidly increases in Inxu-
liiiiicc as tlio Pa('ili(! is a|)proiicli('d." TIk! ('anudian I'acilic.
JlaiKvay is \ni(|U('stional>ly dcsstincd to hcconio ono of tin' i,'r('at
toniist routes of the world. Old travellers, who hav(! crosserl
the other tnuis-continentnl routes, say that the < 'anadian I'acilic
surpasses tluiui all in the nia^^nilicM'tuio ol' its sctenery.

"Near I lurrison Station the Harrison lliver is (crossed just
ahove its conlluence with the Kras(!r. Until tli(! openine- oi' the,
Frasor route, in lM(i4, the ordy access to the nortlu^rn intt^rior
of the |)rovinc(! was hy way of the llnrrison valley. A few
niil(!S lic^yond Niconien, .Mount llaker conies into view on th(^
left, and miles away - a heautifid isohited cone, risini;' thirteen
thousand feel, aliove the railway level. At Mission is nn ini-
|)ortant lloman Oatholic Indian st-hool. Mij^ht miles heyond, iit
the crossin<4' of the Stave River, the linesl, view of Mount linker
is had, looking' hack and up tlus Krascr, which has now lM!(;oiiie
a smooth hut miijhty river. hnm(>ns(' trees are now fre(|iient.,
and tluiir size is indicateil hy the enormous stumps near the
railway.'

The lower reaches of th(! Kraser ahound in fertile! valleys,
enriched hy the alluvium hiNnji^ht flown for a/^cs hy the river.
Everywhere (MiinA;ii> II swarm, ami on many a liar, filiandoiied
hy whiti' nuti, \xs\' patiently washiii!^ out a small ipiantily of
;^old. Their m'at i^'arden patch.es and wooden hous(!s are
evidences of thrift and industry.

TMK i';U'ii"k; coast.
T1i<> first si.Jit of aiiy jjjreat featurt; of nature — as the Alps,
the Mediterraneati, tlur l'rairi(!s, the lloekies, tlui I'acilic -cannot
fail to kindle somewhat the iniaifiiuition. Vet tlu^ asper-t of the
waters (»t' the Pacific, at i'ort Moody, was prosaic in tlw; extnjtnc
— a dull, cloudy sky, a lead-eoloairt'il e.Kpans(i of unrullled water,
a hnck".,M'ound of lin'-swept hills, with a few straL,'<4lin^ houses ;
that Was the pictur(>. Krom here to Vancouver the railway

so HI. I: SCI:M:RV

■* * i

followH tlio south .shoro of litirrard Iiilct; tlin outlook is iin|)ri'^-
Nivoly tloli^'litful. Snow-tipped inoutitiiiiis, huautil'ul in I'oiin and

■A

col()\ir, lisf! opposite, and am vividly rcllrcted in tlm tnirror-
lii\e waters of tlu; dncp-si^a inlet. At intervals alonj,' tlie heavily
wooded shores an; mills with villafjos aronnil them, and with

4 ■■

552

VANCOUVER CITY,

ocoan steamships and sailiiij? crat't loaded with sawn timber for
all parts of the world; on the other hani, and towering hi<^h
above, are |,'ij,'untic trees, twenty, thirty, and even forty feet
in circumference.

The appearance of thinj^s materially improved as we dropped
down the harbour to Vancouver City. The shores became
bolder; the forest of l)ou<,dtts tirs fresher in verdure and
more stupendous in size ; the water deeper, clearer, bluer. Van-
couver City was all bustle an<l activity. Within about three
months after the Hre four hundred houses were erected ; niuny
of them, of course, very Himsy, and a sad j)roportion of them
drinkinij saloons. I was told some harrowin<; .stories about
the appallinj,' suddenness and utter destructiveness of the
calamity. The dry wooden town burned like tinder, and twenty-
four charred bo<lies were found amonj,' the ruins. The city
fronts on (Joal Harbour, a widening of Hurrard Inlet, and «j.k-
tends across a strip of land to English IJay, along the .shore of
which it is now reaching out. The situation is most perftjct
as reganls picture.scjuencss, natural drainage, harbour facilities,
and commercial advantages.

The place is destined to be a large and busy port, and an im-
portant i"nl,r(ij)ot of the trade with Australia, China, and Japan.
It has now (IMSH) over five thousand inhabitants, several miles of
well-ma<le stretjts, and is lighted by gas and electricity. Then;
is a regular steamship service to China and .bipan, to Victoria,
San Krancisco, Alaska and Puget Scnind port-. (Jreat mills
abound on both ^ides of the broad basin. Where to-<lay sjjreads
this bu.sy city, with great hotels and commi rcial bloi ks, a very
few years ago the ru<le shanty .shown on page ')')], furnished
only acconnnodation for the traveller. The coinitry south,
towards the Kraser, has tine farms, an<l is especially adapted to
fruit-growing. The e(;al supply comes from Naiiaimo, directly
across the Ciulf of CJeorgia, and almost within sight. Tliu
.scenery all about is magnificent — the Cascade Mountains nwir
at hand at the north ; the mountains of Vancouver Island
aero.ss the water at the west ; the Olympics at the south-vve.st ;
an<l the great white cone of Moiuit Baker looming up at ilm
south-east. Opportunities f(jr sport are utdimited — mountain

(;:

GUI. I' OF (UjiNilfA.

r).)3

fjoats, litnir and <l«or in the hills alon<' tin; inlot ; trout-fisliinff
in tho niuiintain atieariis; an<l .soa-tishinLj in endlo.ss variety.

VANCOIIVKIl ISLAM).
Tlio iseven liotirs' sail across the nohle (iulf of Georgia to
Vancouver Island was very exhilarating. So .solitary was the
voyage that it almost seemed as if

Wo wcro tli(! tirHt timt ovir JtuiHt
Into that HJIitiil. HcH.

The only vessel we saw was a large timber-laden Norwegian
barcjue. To one unaccustomed to seafaring it i.s a great sur-

'III

NoKWEdlAN IJAKyUE.

prise to ."-ce a full-rigg(!d .sliip, apparently swallowed up by the
.sea, a.s shown in our cut, and tlien heaved high on a huge wave.
The view of the bold .shore and serrated rocky j)eaks of the
mainland was very impressive. As we threaded a ma/e of
islands the cheerful signs of habitation were seen, and a.s wo
entered at night tlit; beautiful hai-bour of Victoria, the far-
gleaming electric lights, (juivering on the water, gave evidence
of the latest triumphs of civilization in this western Ultima
Thuleof Canada. As an illustration oi" tlx; polyglot population
of these ."-hores, I may mention that a Negro, a Chinaman, and
a Siwash Ijidian prepared diruier on the steuuier for a company
representing many countries, provinces and States.

The island of Vancouver has u length of nearly three hun-

m
m

■&

5:)J.

VANCOVVFK ISI.AXn.

<lr»;(l milos, unil aluut fifty in width on an avonvi;o, and lias
HonM} tliirt(!(.'n tlioiis'inil s(|uan' inilos of ti.'rritory. MiKrl) of its
snrfact! is mountainous, and produces l>ut iittli'. Its low-lyin-^
hills and valleys produce ex(!ellent ^'rass, lirw; 'jiy\\/\\v^ for
doiiiesbic animals. Tlu! most valiiaMe land and principal
settlements are on the eastm n and southern shoi'es. Victoria,
which has twelve thousand peophi, is tli(i lar;,'est of all the
towns.

The Pacilicsiile is inhahiU'd chielly hy Indians, <»f whom there

l.N Till', V,\i\,v tiK (Ji;<'U(irA.

aro Homci sovon thousand. Catchinff this fur seal and lialihut
is their U'adin<^ ])ursuit, and they may Ik; said to livo in their
canoes. They surjinss the trihcs of tlu; mainland in point of
intcllij^enco and aptness for various Uinds of lahour. The Al>t
trihe is extensively known for its skilful work in S'^ld, silver,
wood, bone and stone. Their nuinufacttues of these materials
command hij^h prices, and are a source of considerate roveniu!
to the island. The centre of coal-mining on the island is the
town of Nanaimo, a thriving port with a line iiarliour,

iWC/Oh'/.U

i)i>.>

thoro

halil'Ut
In their
point oi'
h.(! Al)t
ll, silviir,
liatciiiils
Iroveniu;
|l is tho
imrbour,

I-

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

v..

1.0

1.1

If 1^ 1^

t va, 112.0

1.8

1.25 1.4 1.6

■• 6"

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^/).

Photographic

Sciences
Corporation

23 Wt>' MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14S80

(716) 873-4503

5dG

VANCOUVER ISLAND.

some sixty miles from Victoria. There were three hundred and
fifty thousand tons shipped from this port to California in one
year.

At Victoria my attention was called to a small steamer, closely
wedged between two superior crafts, a little way from our dock.

" That steamer," said an English sea-captain, " is the first
boat that ever turned a wheel in the Pacific Ocean. She is
the old Beaver. She was built in London, and left that po^t
for Fort Vancouver, on the Columbia River, in 1838. She was,
and is now, a boat of prodigious strength, and has been in
service all these years. Tiiere is barely a sunken rock in all
this vast system of inland waters that she has not found, not
because she sought it, but because she struck it. At the next
dock above lies another, the mate of the Beaver, and the second
steamer to plow the Pacific."

The Eastern tourist is first struck with the exceedingly bland
atmosphere of Vancouver Island. Though the month was
October, the air was balmy, the sun warm, the foliage green, and
the roses, pinks and dahlias were in full bloom in the gardens.
At the pleasant home of the Rev. William Pollard, who is held
in loving memory by many in old Canada, and who made many
inquiries after his old friends, I was presented with one of the
most lovely and fragrant bouquets of roses I ever saw. The
streets, banks, hotels, public buildings and private residences of
Victoria would do credit to many an older and larger city.
There are several excellent churches, conspicuous among which
are the Anglican and Presbyterian. The Methodist church
is handsome and commodious, and was undergoing improvement
and the addition of a new brick school-room. I had the ple&sure
of twice preaching to large and intelligent congregations, of
attending two Chinese services and one Indian Sunday-school,
during a busy Sunday in this westernmost city of Canada.

The chief glory of Victoria is the delightful drives in its
vicinitj'. There does not appear to be the same feverish rush
of business as in the East, if one might judge from the large
turn-out of carriages at an open-air concert on Beacon Hill,
given by the band of the 'flag-ship of Her Majesty's North
Pacific Squadron.

THE OLYMPICS.

557

My genial friend, the Rev. W. Percival, drove me out to the
naval station at Esquimault by a most romantic road. A long
arm of the sea penetrates far inland, and between denseh*
wooded banks the tide swirls in and out with tremendous force.
The varied view of &ea and land, obtained from a lofty knoll,
with, in the distance, beyond the Gulf of Georgia, the penrly
opalescent range of the Olympian Motintains, was one of the

The Olympian Raxob, kkdm Est^uiMAULT Harroub.

most exquisite I ever saw. The clouds above were gorgeous
with purple, rose pink, silver gray and glowing gold, while
the far-shimmering, sunset-tinted mountain-peaks seemed too
ethereal for earth. They were surely like the gates of pearl
and walls of precious stones of the New Jerusalem. In the
south-east rises Mount Baker in a beautiful isolated cone to the
height of thirteen thousand feet.
The harbour at Esquimault, three miles from Victoria, is one

ESQUIMAULT.

559

of tlie finest in the world. It is the rendezvous of the North
Pacific Squadron, and has a magniRceut new dry dock, 400 feet
lonjj, of solid stone, with iron gates. Several war-vessels were
at anchor, including the flag-ship — a huge sea-kraken — painted
white, I suppose to secure greater coolness between decks during
her tropical cruise. As we were too late to go on board, Mr.
Percival kindly arranged a pleasant family excursion for Monday
morning. To a landsman the exploration of one of these
floating forts is full of interest Everything was as clean and
bright as holy-stone or rubbing could make it — the decks,
the brass mountings, the burnished arms, down to the buttons

In EsiQUiMADLT Habbuub.

on the smart uniforms of the marines. A courteous orderly
conducted us everywhere, from the captain's cabin to the cooks
galley, and explained the operation of the big breech-loading
battery, of the torpedoes, and of the tremendous engines of the
ship. Between decks was a perfect arsenal, with cannon, stands
of muskets, cutlasses, revolvers, and bayonets on every side.
The hammocks were all trussed up and stowed along the bul-
warks during the day. We saw only one slung, and that was in
the hospital, where a sick cadet was swinging at his ease. One
thing excited my amazemrnt. A bugle call rang shrilly and a
boatswain piped all hands to grog. A man from each mess
scurried with alacrity and a tin can — that is a fine zeugma for

660

G/iOG RATIONS.

you — to a big tub of very strong-smelling Jamaica rum, where
a generous libation was dipped into each can. We were told
that a sailor might commute his grog for a penny or two a day
— but they all seemed to prefer the rum. Strange that the
naval authorities should thus ply the jack-tars with temptation,
and then punish them for indulging beyond the regulation
allowance when they go ashore. On our way home we met
three jolly tars, for whom the road seemed too narrow as they
staggered from side to side. The Church owes an important
duty to these homeless sea-dogs, who swarm in every port, for
whom the vilest temptations are spread the moment they set a
foot ashore.

A BURDKN-BEAKEK. '

The very day that I landed in Victoria the Vancouver Island
Railway was formally opened as far as the great coaling har-
bour of Nanaimo, and the scream of the iron horse awoke the
immemorial echoes of the forest primeval. To my great regret,
however, my time was so limited that I could not make the
run to see my old comrade and college friend, the Rev. E. Robson,
the oldest Methodist missionary, I think, on the Pacific Coast.

One of the most sticking features of Victoria is the large
number of Chinese.. They swarm everywhere. In all the
streets you meet their blue blouses, thick shoes and long queues.
They seem to do most of the burden-bearing of the city, with

CHINESE QUARTER.

661

big baskets at the ends ot bamboo poles across their shoulders.
They keep many of the small huckster-shopa They do most of
the market gardening. They are almost exclusively the servants
of the hotels and private houses. Whole streets are given up

YoDNO China.

to their stores and dwellings. One of these is named Cormorant
Street, not from the exorbitant nature of their charges, as I
partly apprehended, but from the name of one of Her Majesty's
ships of war. Occasionally may be seen the dumpy, waddling

66S

CHINESE ART.

figures of the few Chinese women of the city, with very shiny
hair, rich silk pelisses with wide sleeves, in which, in cold
weather, their hands disappear, with very wide trousers, and
thick-soled embroidered shoes. Their faces are often quite

Chinese Abtist.

pretty, with bright almond-shaped eyes, and an innocent, almost
infantile expression of countenance, though many of them are
said to be anything but innocent.
The little children are the funniest of all — like miniature

A Chinese Oentlebiak.

•7^^mmf^^^''ymimmyi'^!^

JOSS-HOUSE.

men and women, with their pigtails, and blouses, and pelisses^
and thick shoes, that clatter like clogs as they walk along the
sidewalk. Their parents seem very fond of them. I shook
hands with one old-fashioned little thing, whereupon its father
told it to make me a bow, which it did repeatedly, very prettily.

In the Hudson Bay Company's fine store I met a very intel-
ligent Chinaman. I asked him where I eould get Chinese
curios and the like. He wrote his address in an excellent hand,
and invited me to call at his store. I did so, and was very
courteously received. He offered me a fine Manilla cigar, which
I declined, and showed me some exquisite carved ivory and the
like — quite too expensive for my purse, however. While
retaining their natural dress, the Chinese merchants have much
of the dignity and politeness of European gentlemen. Our cut
gives a not too-favourable representation of a Chinese of the
better class. Their imitative faculty is highly developed and
they make excellent copyists though not good original artists.
Their perspective is often atrocious, though their portraits are
sometimes " as like as they can stare."

I was struck with a curious illustration of Chinese respect
for letters. At almost every corner was a painted box, affixed
to the wall, to receive, I was told, scraps of papar picked up ofi
the street, that they might not be trodden under foot.

One of the most curious places I visited was a so-called joss-
house. It was gorgeously fitted up in exceedingly bizarre and
barbaric pomp, with stands of gilt halberds and swords, a huge
embroidered silk umbrella with deep fringe, gay lanterns,
banners, and shrines with wonderfully carved dragons and high
reliefs of tilt and tourney, representing the exploits of the
mythological warriors, I was told, of seven thousand years ago.
Chinese architecture has a peculiarity of its own, a barbaric
wealth of carving, gilding and crimson and yellow colours.

The Chinese I found very courteous, and anxious to give any
information in their power. This they do in loud explosive
tones, in broken English, with frequent inquiries of " Sahe / "
a Spanish word, which they use for " Do you understand ? "
In the joss-house just mentioned, I observed a large figure in
a sort of shrine, with the hand raised as if in benediction. I

**SABEr

•sked the caretaker or priest, or whatever he was, if this was
Buddha. He replied, " Yes." I then asked who a black-faced
iij^ure by his side was. He replied, " Big man — him big boss,
oder man help him. Sabe 7 " I inquired what certain cups
and vessels and lamps before the shrine were for. " Me feed
him, me warm him," he answered ; " me give him tea and food.

A Chinesi Joss-Housi.

n
I

Sabe? Man no sick, do well, make good sale, him pay one
dollah, two dollah, four bit to feed him. Sabe ? " and he showed
the book in which the subscriptions were recorded. " Him pay
well, help him good," said my guide. "Allee time good, go up.
Bad man, go down." I asked him if he had heard of Jesus
Christ. "Yes, yes," he exclaimed. "Him allee same Jesus
Chlist," and he pointed to the image, whose gorgeous surround-

PP"P<P

mmmw

066

A PURCHASED WIFE,

inga h« said were to "make look pliiiy" (pretty). I wa*
haunted all the time with the feeling that here in the heart of
our Christian civili^tion was a fragment of that vast system
of paganism to which well-nigh one-third of our race is in
bondage.

Mr. Gardiner, the missionary to the Chinese, tells a good
story which illustrates the appreciation even of the " heathen
Chinee " of the obligations of Christianity. Mr. Vrooman, who
was also a Customs official, had shown some courtesy to a couple
of Chinamen, when one of them offered him a cigar, whereupon
the other interposed to prevent him, saying, " Him no smokee.
Him Jesus man." Would that all J:3us men came up to the
expectations of this poor pagan.

Some of the Chinese are very wealthy, and some of them
have superior administrative and executive ability. I conversed
with one on the railway train who told me that he had charge
of the construction of a section of the railway, and employed
five hundred Chinamen. He paid them from four bits — 50
cents — to $1.50 a day. He professed to be somewhat of a
phrenologist, and criticized with much shrewdness and humour
the heads of the passengers.

I was greatly interested in one stout old fellow going to
Cariboo, where he told me he had three hundred Chinamen
washing gold for him. Wah Lee was his name. He was
reputed to be worth $70,000; He was taking home with him
a new wife, a pretty little creature about four feet high. She
wore— this is for wj lady readers — a pale pink silk tunic with
dark skirt and very wide silk trousers — I know no other name
for them — and dainty embroidered shoes with thick white soles.
She wore an over-pelisse of dark blue figured silk, with a
striped border of old gold and black. Her hair, which was very
black, was smoothly parted— ever so much prettier than the
" bongs " — and she wore no head covering but a very bright-
coloured coronet of artificial flowers. She looked like a pretty
doll. She was accompanied by her sister, a fat little dumpling
of ten years. Both carried handsome fans.

The old fellow told me, without any reserve, his whole
domestic history. He was fifty-three years of age, had a wife

r ! *■'

CRUEL SLAVERY.

667

in China, and a son af(ed thirty. His old wife would not come
out to him, so she had sent him a new one. He had paid $280
for her. She was seventeen years of a^^e ; the little sister was
thrown into the bargain. He wore a handnome silk fur-lined
pelisse, which was worth, he said, $60. He told me, also, the
cost of his wife's jewellery, but I forget the particulars.

The little bride, I am afraid, was not in love with her liege
lord. When he went into the dining-car for supper she refused
to follow him, bub lay with her pretty
little head on the hard arm of the
seat, declining to speak. I should
say, in English, that she was in a fit
of the sulks ; and small blame to her,
as the man who had purchased her,
as he would a dog or a horse, was an
obeij and ugly fellow thrice her age.
I suggested that she would be more
comfortable by changing her posi-
tion, so that every passer-by would
not brush against her dainty flower-
crowned head ; but he replied with
indifference, " Oh, she all lite," — i.e.,
"all right" And yet one-third of
all the women of the race are the
victims of a bondage often as cruel
as that — often much more so — for
she was a rich man's purchased pet,
while most of the Chinese women in
America, and many in their own land,
are the slaves of the vilest tyranny
of body and soul that words can express or mind conceive.
Here is work for Christian women on behalf of their heathen
sisters — to reach them in their degradation, to clothe them with
the virtues of Christianity, to raise them to the dignity of
true womanhood, to the fellowship of saints.

I am glad that the Methodist Church has entered the open
door of opportunity thus set before it in the city of Victoria.
I had the pleasure of twice attending the services of the Chi-

The Little Bride.

4 \r-r.

5G8

CHINESE MISSIONS.

nese Methodist Mission, and was greatly impressed with the
value of the good work being done. When Dr. Sutherland
was in Victoria, in 1885, he baptized and received into Church
membership eleven Chinese converts. These, I found, 1 think
without exception, amid discouragements and persecution, hold-
ing fast to their Christian profession. A home for Chinese
women rescued from bondage to sin has also been successfully
established.

A most valuable missionary has been found in Mr. Gardiner,
an accomplished Chinese scholar, who devotes himself with
enthusiasm to the work. It was very impressive to hear him
go over with his Chinese congregation the Ten Commandments
and the Lord's Prayer, in both English and Chinese, and to hear
them sing the familiar doxology and such hymns as " Blest be
the tie that binds," and others, in their strange foreign tongue.
I had the privilege of addressing, through him, this interesting
congregation. On being introduced to several of them they
exhibited much intelligence and thankful appreciation of the
provision made for their religious and secular instruction. It
is a remarkable fact, that the attendance at the purely religious
meetings is much larger than that at tlue classes for secular
instruction.

PACIFIC COAST INDIANS.

The large number of Indians on the Pacific Coast presents
another important element in the missionary problem in that
country. Though by no means, as a whole, a very high type of
humanity, they are yet much superior to the Indians of the
plains whom I saw. There is a little cove in Victoria harbour
where the boats of the West Coast Indians most do congregate.
These are large, strong canoes, each hewn out of a single log.
Many of them will carry a dozen persons or more. In the
National Museum, at Washington, is one from Alaska over
sixty feet long, and five or six feet wide. In these they sail
for hundreds of miles along the coast, fishing, sealing, and
hunting, and bringing the result of their industry to Victoria
for barter. The chief peril they encounter at sea is that their
wooden craft may split from stem to stern through the force of
the waves. These dug-outs are fantastically carved and painted.

TOTEM POLES.

669

Several of them lay in the little cove just mentioned, their
owners sound asleep, or basking half-awake in the sun. The
men have short squat figures and broad flat faces, with a thick
thatch of long black hair, both head and feet being bare. The

•women wear bright partl-coloured shawls, and frequently a
profusion of rings, necklaces, artd other cheap jewellery. I saw
some with rings in the nose and copper bracelets on their arms.
A little family group were roasting and eating mussels on the
rocks. A not uncomely Indian woman gave me some. They
were not at all unpalatable, and if one only had some .salt and

570

MISSION WORK.

bread, would make a very good meal. But roast mussel alone
was rather unappetising fare. A pretty black-eyed child was
playing with a china doll, and another had a little toy-rabbit.
It is quite common to see these Indian women squatting
patiently on the sidewalk hour after hour — time is a commodity
of which they seem to have any quantity at their disposal.

It is among these poor creatures, too often the prey of the
white man's vices, and the victims of the white man's diseases,
that some of the most remarkable missionary triumphs on this
continent have been achieved. The totem poles shown in one
of our engravings are not the " idols " of the Indian tribes, as

IsDiAN Orates.

has been asserted, but their family cresta The Indians have
quite a heraldry of their own, and some of the carvings are
certainly as grotesque as any of the dragons, griffins or wy vems
of the Garter-King-at-Arms.

Few things exhibit stronger evidence of the transforming
power of Divine grace than the contrast between the Christian
life and character of the converted Indians, and the squalor and
wretchedness of the still pagan Indians on the reserve near the
city. In company with the Rev. Mr. Percival, I visited this
village. The house, like most of the Indian lodges on the West
Coast, was a large structure of logs with slab roof, occupied in
common by several families, but divided into a number of

LITTLE JLU.

571

stall-like compartments. Each family had its own fire upon
the bare earth floor, and its own domestic outfit. This is very
meagre — a few woven mats, a bed upon a raised dais, a few
pots and pans. As we entered, a low plaintive croon or wail
greev'^ed our ears. This, we found, came from a forlorn-looking
woman in wretched garb, crouching beside a few embers. As
we drew near she lapsed into sullen silence, from which no
effort could move her.

Yet that these poor people have their tender affections we
saw evidence in the neighbouring graveyard, in the humble
attempts to house and protect the graves of their dead. I
noticed one pathetic memorial of parental affection in a little
house with a glass window, on which was written the tribute
of love and sorrow, " In memory of Jim." Within was a child's
carriage, dusty and time-stained, doubtless the baby carriage of
Jim. An instinct old as humanity, yet ever new, led the sor-
rowing parents to devote what was most precious to the memory
of their child. Numerous similar evidences of affection were
observed in other Indian places of burial.

The history of the Indian missions of the Methodist Church
on the Pacific Coast is one of the most remarkable in missionary
annals. Of this we were strongly reminded as we visited, in
the city of Victoria, the neat and commodious Indian chapel,
whose cost was, to a considerable extent, defrayed by the
Indians themselves. Ib the presence of Mrs. Deix, one of the
principal agents in promoting this work, we heard its stoiy
recounted by Mr. McKay, one of its faithful helpers for many
years.

The first Indian mission services in the city were held in a
whiskey saloon hired for the purpose. There came one night
to the door Mrs. Deix, then a pagan chieftess, but her antago-
nism to Christianity would not allow her to enter. At length
her prejudice was overcome, she attended the services and was
soon f i'y Cx^ii verted. From that hour the burden of her
prayers was that her pagan son and his wife, six hundred
miles up the coast, might be brought to Victoria that they also
might be converted. Contrary to all human expectation, they
came, with a score of kinsfolk, in midwinter to Victoria. But

572

MISSIONARY TRIUMPHS.

her faith was subjected to another trial. They refused to
attend the Christian worship, and mocked at her religious
convictions. The power of Christian song and Christian testi-
mony, however, overcame their prejudices, and soon the son
and wife and many more were converted, among them the
David Salasaton, who all too soon wore out his life in fervent
preaching the new joys of salvation among the northern tribes.
Dr. Puashon, who listened with delight to his burning words,
declared him to be one of the most eloquent speakers he ever
heard.

From this apparently inadequate beginning has come, in the
providence of God, the wonderfully successful Indian missions
at Port Simp.son, Bella-Bella, Bella-Coola and Naas River, with
their hundreds of converted Indians and transformed villages,
where Christian prayer and praise have succeeded the pagan
orgies of savage tribes.

Mrs. Deix, who is still a woman in the prime of life, and of
great energy of character, at the service we had the privilege to
attend, related in fervent words her Christian experience — first
in English, then, as her heart warmed, in her native tongue ; and
was followed in like manner by several others. The singing
was a special feature. The rich, sweet voices, and with a tear-
compelling pathos, they sang in their own tongue the familiar
tunes, "Rescue the Perishing," "Ring the Bells of Heaven,"
and "Shall we Gather at the River?"

THE INLAND PASSAGE.

I had not the opportunity to visit the West Coast Indian
missions and the adjacent territory of Alaska, but I glean the
following account from Lieut. Schwatka's volume and from
other trustworthy sources :

Leaving Victoria 've pass through a congeries of islands, like
the Thousand Islands of the St. Lawrence on a greatly magni-
fied scale, when we enter the Gulf of Georgia, one of the widest
portions of the Inland Passage. Some forty or fifty miles
farther on, and we reach the first typical waters of the Inland
Passage — Discovery Passage — a narrow waterway between
high mountainous banks ; an extended salt-water, river-like

THE INLAND PASSAGE.

573

channel, about a mile in breadth. At Seymour Narrows th&
channel is not much over half a mile wide, where the tides
rush through with the velocity of the swiftest rivers (said to be
nine knots at springtides). The shores are now getting truly
mountainous in character, ridges and peaks on the south side
bearing snow throughout the summer on their summits, four
thousand to five thousand feet high. Queen Charlotte Sound
is one of the few openings to the Pacific Ocean. Where
Magellan sailed over the Pacific Ocean it well deserved the

On the Inland Passaqk.

name ; but along i-he rough northern coast the amount of stormy
weather increases, and a voyage on this part of the Pacific is
not always calculated to impress one with the appropriateness
of the great ocean's name. The full sweep of the Pacific is
encountered and the steamer is often exposed to a very heavy
sea. It is very impressive to look from some rocky headland
over the vast Pacific and to realize that for four thousand milea
these waves roll on unimpeded till they break upon the shores
of the distant Empire of Japan. Especially impressive is this
at the set of sun, when the shadows of night mantle sea and

574

SUNSET EFFECTS.

land. The Rov. Dr. Sutherland beautifully describes such a
scene as follows :

"A few years ago, while on a visit to our missions in British
Columbia, one evening, in company with a few others, I
climbed a hill whose summit commanded a view of the Pacific
Ocean. Before us lay a vision that will be treasured up in
memory's chambers through all the coming years. Behind us
was the gloomy forest and the toilsome way over which we
had journeyed, but before us the broad Pacific lay unrolled, so
near in that transparent atmosphere that we could see the

A Heavt Sea.

ripples on its bosom stirred by the evening breeze, and yet so
far that amid the solemn stillness there came to us no sound of
the wave that broke upon the distant reef. In the western
sky dappled clouds were anchored in the blue, through which
the rays of the setting sun streamed upon the sea in ever-
varying tints of purple and gold and amethyst, till every ripple
sparkled like burnished jewels set in a sapphire pavement.
And then as the sun sank still lower, and touched the ocean's
distant rim, the glowing tints all merged into one long trail of
splendour that stretched from the shore above which we stood,

NORTHERN ARCHIPELAGO.

575

all the way to another shore that seemed to lie just where the
sun was setting, as if God's angels had bridged, with beaten
gold, the surface of the gently heaving sea, making a pathway
of light over which departing souls might pass to the other
side. But a little longer and the golden glory softened into
almost silvery whiteness, which, when the sun disappeared,
merged in the neutral tints of a quiet sea, leaving only a
reflected splendour in the sky to tell of the brightness that had
been there."
The mainland is flanked throughout nearly its entire extent

Sunset on the Pacific.

by a belt of islands, of which the majority are sea-girt moun-
tains. Most aptly has this wave-washed region been termed
an archipelago of mountains and land-locked seas. In this
weird region of bottomless depths, there are no sand beaches
or gravelly shores. All the margins of mainland and islands
drop down plump into inky fathoms of water.

Along these shores there are numerous Indian fishing vil-
lages. One of the most remarkable of these was Metlakahtla.
A couple of years ago it was a flourishing village. The
story of the reclamation of the Indians from savagery and
paganism to civilization and Christianity, through the labours

676

METLAKAHTLA.

of Mr. Duncan, a lay missionary of the Church of England,
is one of intense interest. But on account of dissensions
between Mr. Duncan and the officers of the Society, the
mission was broken up, and Mr. Duncan and his Indians
removed to Alaska. A recent visitor to this spot says : "There
is a certain pathos about Metlakahtla. It was a village of two-
storied houses, with street lamps, gardens, and shell-strewn
paths, where fruit has unequal luxuriance, whose harbour has
efficient shelter, where there is a cannery und a sawmill for

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Natdre's Monument, Pacific Coast.

the employment of the people, the largest church in the prov-
ince, and a fine mission house. But now the houses are in ruins,
gaping windowless on the sea, the church mocks with hollow
echoes its scanty services, the cannery and saw-mill are broken
down, there are no children in the streets, no gatherings in
the public place, the guest-house that was once thronged with
many travellers has no path to it, and all the gardens are over-
grown and waste." A few of the exiled Indians are, it is said,
straggling back to their old home.

'•

WEST COAST VILLAGE.

577

678

PORT SIMPSON.

Port Simpson is twenty miles farther north, near the borders
of Alaska. Of it the writer last quoted says: " Fort Simpson is
perhaps more attractive than even Metlakahtla. The houses
are more numerous and better designed, and the place looks
prosperous. At the Methodist mission, which has a good
church, is an Industrial school wherein twenty-five Indian
girls are sheltered from impurity and taught to keep house.
Fort Simpson has an important Hudson's Bay Company's post
dating from 1830, and the log buildings, although defaced in
part with modern clap- board and paint have a little of the
natural frontier dignity which pervades the true Hudson '.««
Bay factory. One of the bastions, and even some curtaileo
parts of the old stockade, still exi.st. There are now nine or
ten whites in the village. The houses occupy a point of land
and a little island forming part of the breakwater of the fine
circular bay, cited officially as the best of the British Columbian
harbours."

Here the Rev. Thomas Crosby and his dovoted wife have
been the means, in the hands of Providence, of working a
mora! miracle in the habits of the natives. The commodious
church was erected almost entirely at the expense of the
natives and numerous outlying missions at Bella-Bella, Bella-
Coola, Naas River, Port Essington, Queen Charlotte Islands,
and the Upper Skeena. For many years Mr. Crosby travelled
up and down the wild west coast in a native dug-out canoe, but
now the Glad Tidings, mission steam-yacht, furnishes a readier
means of access to the scattered mission stations. In this
heroic work he is nobly seconded by the Eev. Messrs. Green,
Jennings, Bryant and others, and by several native assistants.
The history of Christian missions on this coast is a chapter of
strangest romance and heroism.

ALASKA.

A few pages may be devoted to this north-west corner of
the North American continent. Alaska is sharply divided
from the Dominion of Canada by the 141st degree of west
longitude, from the Arctic Ocean to Mount St. Elias, thence by
an irregular line seldom more than thirty miles from the sea

ALASKA.

679

to the 55th parallel — a further distance of six hundred miles.
It b eleven hundred miles long and eight hundred miles

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Fir Forest, Alaska.

broad, and has an area of five hundred and twelve thousand
square miles. Discovered in 1741 by a Russian expedition

wma

S80

ALASKA.

under Bohring, at the cost of the f,'reat navigator'H life, it
came under the control of the Czar, who encouraj^ud the
planting of various independent Hottlenicnts until the year
1799, when Paul VIII. granted the whole territory to the
RusMO- American Fur Company, who established forty stationa,
and conducted a flourishing trade for luore than sixty years.
In 1HG7 it was purchased by the United States Qovernment
for $7,200,000. The greater part of the country is unknown,
but enouj^h of it has been explored by traders, scientists and
sportsmen to show that one of the world's greatest wonder-
lands lies withiji its boundaries.

The climate of Alaska is phenomenal. The warm waters of
the ocean give ofl' a copious moisture, which is thrown by the
winds against the snow-clad mountains and glaciers, and is
precipitated in thick mists and torrents of rain. At Sitka the
mean temperature is 49°'9, and the average rainfall eighty
inches.

For about one thousand miles from the southern extremity
of Vancouver's Island northwards, there stretches a vast archi-
pelago in the midst of which is the Inland Passage above
described. On reaching the Alaskan territory, snowy moun-
tain peaks begin to appear ; and higher still, crowns of ice
debouch in the shape of glaciers right down to the water's
level ; and, finally, all the wonders of the Arctic regions are
seen on a reduced scale. The Inland Passage terminates just
beyond Sitka, which, as New Archangel, was the capital of
Russian America. It is now the headquarters of the United
States authorities, and one of the three principal settlements.
It contains fifteen hundred inhabitants, and is the residence of
a Greek bishop. The surrounding scenery^ as shown in our
cut is magnificent. So mild and moist is the climate that the
grass here grows five feet high, dandelions are as large as asters,
and buttercups twice the usual size. In the forest-clad moun-
tain slopes the spruces grow to an enormous size, with remark-
ably dense foliage, and the rocks are covered with beds o£ moss
of great depth.

Round the co%st-line from Sitka Inlet an^ immense wall of
ice stretches for hundreds of miles, broken only by the estuaries

SITKA.

of considerable rivers. Further on Mount St. Elios, an octive
volcano, rises, a mass of snow ond ice, twenty thousand feet

sheer from the ocean's edge which thunders at its base. Near
Mount St. Elias is the greatest cluster of high mountains on
the Western Continent — Lituya Peak, ten thousand feet

9S!

I— ••

582

ST. ELIAS.

-fi

high ; Fairweather, fifteen thousand five hundred ; and Crillon,
still higher ; then, beyond, Cook and Vancouver cluster near
sublime St. Ellas, whose jagged top may be seen a hundred and
fifty miles to sea. How disappointing are the Colorado peaks
of twelve and fourteen thousand feet, for the simple reason that
they spring from a plain already six to eight thousand feet
above sea-level, and seem, as they are, but high hills on a high
plateau. How like pigmies they appear to Hood, Tacoma,
Shasta, and others, whoso every foot above sea-level is in

Alaskan Cliffs.

mountain slope. On the eastern side of St. Elias the coast
curves slightly to the south. A long promontory, cut up into
innumerable forest-fringed bays, and protected by a maze of
rocks and islets, reaches out into the Pacific, and tapers off" into
a grand chain of islands which stretch half way across to Asia,
and are covered with woods, prairies, and volcanoes.

Alaska is a land of mountains. Vast forests run up their
slopes, often to an altitude of two thousand feet, and are rich
in c€dar, spruce, alder, larch and fir, some of which develop

rea

loo

rea

BUYING FURS.

583

colossal proportions. The rivers swarm with salmon and trout.
The king salmon sometimes reaches a length of six feet, and
weighs about ninety pounds. It is for its sea-fisheries, how-
ever, that Alaska is most famous. Enormous quantities of
halibut, cod, smelt, flounders, etc., are caught on its coast. The
adjacent Aleutian Islands are the home of the fur seal. The
Yukon River is two thousand and forty-four miles long, in two
places upwards of twenty miles broad, fed by innumerable
tributaries of unknown length and capacity, and discharging,
it is alleged, a greater volume of water than any other river
in the world.

This great lonely land is said to have only thirty thousand
inhabitants, mostly Indians and Eskimo. The constant life of
some of the Indians on the water has produced a most prepon-
derating development of the chest and upper limbs over the
lower, so that their gait on land is like that of aquatic birds.
Stern experience has given the trading Indians a keen eye for
business, and they are at length discovering the value of the
products of their country. Once, when an Indian wanted a
ffun, for example, an old flint lock was produced, and he had to
pile skin upon skin until the heap reached the muzzle, and in
return for three or four hundred dollars' worth of furs he
would receive the antiquated but coveted weapon. The Hud-
soiis Bay Company employed, it is said, remarkably long-
barrelled guns in this traffic, but now the Indians understand
the value of furs as well as the purchaser. Some of the
Indian houses are quite respectable, being made with cedar,
with a polished floor, and handsomel)' adorned. Most of the
habitations, however, are squalid beyond measure. The dense
resinous smoke blackens the walls and fills the house with
fumes which are sufficiently diagreviable without the odour of
decayed salmon, with which they are usually impregnated.

After crossing the International boundary the first settlement
reached is Wrangell, which is a tumble-down, dilapidated-
looking town, in a most beautifully picturesque situation.
It is the port to the Cassiar mines in British Columbia,
reached by the Stickeen River, a most picturesque stream,
which pierces the Coast Range through a Yosemite valley more

tmm

584

S/T/CA SOUND.

th;
bo

SITKA.

585

than a hundred miles long, from one to three miles wide at the
bottom, and from five thousand to eight thousand feet deep.

Sitka, the capital of Alaska, is most picturesquely located at
the head of Sitka Sound ; its bay is full of pretty islets. The
steamer, after winding its way through a tortuous channel,
finally brings to at a commodious wharf, with the city before
you, which is in strange contrast with the wild, rugged scenery
around. In front stretch the white set, lements of the town.
The Greek church is the most conspicuous and interesting
object. It is built in the form of a Greek cross, and is sur-
mounted by an Oriental dome over the centre, which has been
painted an emerald green color. One wing is used as a chapel,
and contains, besides a curious font, an exquisite painting of
the Virgin and Child, copied from the celebrated picture at
Moscow. All the drapery is of silver, and the halo of gold; of
the painting itself, nothing is seen but the faces. Through the
opening left for the head shows the face of the Virgin, of marvel-
lous sweetness and exquisite colouring. The picture is worthy
of a place in the world's great galleries, and it seemed a matter
of regret that it is in such a secluded place. The life-size
painting of St. Michael and St. Nicholas on the doors of the
altar have elaborate silver draperies and gold halos. The
ornaments and the candelabra are all of silver, the walls are
hung with portraits of princes and prelates, and the general
effect is rich in the extreme.

A few old Russians, or " Russian Creoles," present, had an
air of being Tolstoi's peasants, and entered into the service
with great earnestness. The Indian converts were noticeable
for their stupid looks and perfunctory motions, evidently under-
standing little of the service, which was in Slavonic. The
candles in the hanging silver lamps (similar to those seen at
the Greek altars in the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem) seemed
to attract them, and in many of the Indian houses we saw
" icons " with a light burning before them. This Greek church
claims to have a thousand adherents.

Next to the church in interest is the old Muscovite castle.
Here, the stern Romanoff ruled the land, and Baron Wrangell,
one of Russia's many celebrated Polar explorers, held sway.

586

GREEK CHURCH.

a:
O

a;
o

GLACIERS.

687

a:
O

«
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03
M
H

The old baronial structure is imposing solely because of its
commanding position on the top of a great rock, and is inter-
esting on account of its history and the romantic stories that
cling about the vestiges of its fast-decaying grandeur. Its
great timbers are put together in that solid, heavy fashion that
recalls the days when this now peaceful settlement was ravaged
by Indian wars, and stout walls were a necessity as a defence
against attack.

At Sitka the American Presbyterians have a prosperous
mission with a school and orphanage, established by Mrs.

An Arctic Fjord in Winter.

McFarlane, a devoted American lady, who was for some years
the only white woman in the country — a region larger than the
whole of France.

At Glacier Bay, near Mount St. Elias, the grandeur culmin-
ate& Muir Glacier exposes a glittering wall of ice from five
hundred to one thousand feet in height, four or five miles
across the front, and extending forty miles back. From one
point thirty huge glaciers may be seen.

" In all Switzerland," says Lieut. Schwatka, " there is nothing
comparable to these Alaskan glaciers, where the frozen wastes

588

A NORTHERN WONDERLAND,

rise straight from the soa, and a steamer can go up within an
eighth of a mile, and cruise beside them."

Lord Duiferin has pronounced the scenery of Alaska to be
the sublimest he has witnessed in all his travels. He says:
" While its glaciers and mountains are five times as large as
those of the Alpine regions, Alaska possesses, in addition,
the changeful beauty of the sea; while the Alpine Moun-
tains attain their grandeur slowly, rising from the level by a
succession of foot-hills, these peaks of the northland rise
abruptly from the sea to a snow-crowned, ice-crowned height,

A TyficaIi Glacibb.

not surpassed by the loftiest peaks of the Alps." Alaska is
par excellence, the scenic store-ground of the world, its inlets
rivalling the fjords of Norway and its glaciers far surpassing
those of Switzerland.

The present writer has not yet had the opportunity to visit
this northern wonderland. The city o? Victoria furnished
enough of interest to occupy all the time at my command.
With its beautiful climate, noble scenery, its great future
possibilities, I was profoundly impressed. But in one respect
there was a considerable room for improvement. I have

GIANT PINES.

589

seen very few cities with so large a number of places for the
sale of intoxicating liquors, and such places must have a large
number of patrons. During the palmy days of gold-mining at
Cariboo, miners used, during the winter, to swarm into Victoria
by the thousand — many of them squandering their hard-earned
nuggets in drinking, gambling, and carousing. Those days are
gone forever ; but they left a residuum of vice that will require
all the counter influence of religious and temperance effort to
overcome. Nor are such efforts wanting. My last evening in
Victoria was spent at a meeting of the Women's Christian
Temperance Union — which has there a vigorous branch. It
has just been enjoying a visit from Miss Willard and our Cana-
dian Mrs. Yeomans, who both did valiant service for the cause
of truth and righteousness. After bidding the zealous ladies of
the Women's Christian Temperance Union God-speed in their
holy work, I went on board the steamer at eleven o'clock, and
before morning was far out on the Gulf of Georgia.

NEW WESTMINSTER.

By noon next day we were at Port Moody. I walked
across fronfi Port Moody to New Westminster, a distance of
six miles. And a very fine walk it was, in large part through
a majestic forest of Douglas pines. A great fire long ago
ravaged this region, and many of the trees are now mere
charred and blackened torsos of their former giant propor-
tions. But many still stand erect, tall and stately, and crowned
with living green. I stood on a stump whose diameter wa»
nearly ten feet. One fallen monarch was over two hundred
feet in length. Near New Westminster was a huge stump^
thirteen paces in circumference, within whose hollow heart a
good-sized tree was growing, which had been planted by the
Marquis of Lome. The saw-logs are so enormous that ten
or. twelve oxen are often required to drag them from the forest.
There are many mills for the reduction of these huge logs to
timber, some of which are situated amid wildly picturesque
scenery, as in our cut.

It was rather a lonely walk from Port Moody, without a
house or clearing except a few at either end. I met only two

590

AMONG THE PINES.

white men in the whole distance, and eight Chinamen, each
of the latter bearing his personal belongings slung from the

end of a bamboo pole over his
shoulder.

I stopped at a large "can-
nery," that of Laidlaw & Co.,
to examine the mode of can-
ning the famous Fraser River
salmon. It was operated prin-
cipally by Chinamen, of whom
seventy-four
were employed.
For these was
erected a large
boarding-house
on piles, like
the pre-historic
phalbauten of
Switzerland.
Notwithstand-
ing all that is
said to the con-
trary, I think
the Chinese are
a very cleanly

Among the Douglas Pinks.

race. There was a great boiler of hot water ready for their
baths, and they seem forever rasping and shaving each other's

502

A SALMON CANNERY.

heads and faces. I saw one fellow blinking in the sun, while a
comrade, who held him by the nose, was sedulously scraping
away at his visage. They will actually shave the inside of the
ear, as shown in our engraving on page 596.

About seventy-five Indians were also employed in catching
the salmon. They lived in a squalid village of crowded hovels
with scarce passage-room between them. Hungry-looking dogs
and well-fed-looking children swarmed in about equal propor-
tions. Lazy-looking brawny men lounged around; some of
them in bed at five p.m., while the women cleaned and smoked
the fish which were hanging in unsavoury festoons from poles
overhead. The stories told of the multitude of salmon seem
almost incredible. During some seasons I was assured they
could be pitched out by the boatload with a common pitchfork.

Within the cannery, however, everything was clean and
orderly. The salmon are caught in long nets stretched across
the river, and are cleaned^ and washed, and scraped by hand.
Afterwards machinery does most of the work. Circular saws
cut the fish into sections, the length of a can. The cans being
filled, the tops are soldered on automatically by rolling the cans
down an iacline, the corner being immersed in a groove con-
taining a bath of molten solder. The cans are then boiled in
great crates in a steam chamber at 240°. They are pricked
with a pointed hammer to allow the steam to escape, and are
deftly soldered air-tight by Chinamen. When cold they are
labelled and packed in cases. Nine-tenths of the entire catch
goes to England, I saw Chinamen, also, making and packing
shingles by machinery; in fact, doing most of the manual
labour, and doing it well. I don't see how these great canneries
could be run without them. White labour it seems impossible
to get in suflficient quantity.

New Westminster occupies a magnificent situation, on a vast
slope rising from the river-side to the 1. eight, I should say, of
two hundred feet. From the upper streets and terraces a far-
reaching view is obtained of the Lower Fraser, and of £he inter-
mipable pine forests on the southern shore. It is in contempla-
tion to have railway connection with the American railway
system of the Pacific Coasts This would bring New West-

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694

NE IV IVES TAf/A'S TEIi.

minster and Vancouver into intimate relations of trade and
travel with the thriving cities of Portland, Seattle, Tacoina, and
with the beautiful city of the Golden Gate.

Mount Tacoina, shown in cut on pa^e 599, is the loftiest
mountain in the United States, except the Alaska group. It
rises 14,444 feet above sea level, and seonis all the higher
because it rises not from an elevated plateau, but almost sheer
from the water side.

New Westminster has some handsome buildings, including
the Anglican cathedral, of stone, boasting the only chime of
bells on the Coast — a gift of the Baroness Burdett-Coutts.
The Methodist church is a very tasteful and neat structure,
and in the parsonage near by — honoured by the residence of
such men as Robson, Derrick, Pollard, Russ, Bryant, Brown-
ing, White, and Dr. Evans — I received a hearty welcome from
my genial friend, the Rev. Coverdale Watson.

Mr. Watson was enthusiastic in his praises of British Colum-
bia. He said that the people of the East do not conceive
the magnificent agricultural and pastoral resources of the valley
of the Eraser, the Nicola Valley, and the other extensive regions
of the interior. He had recently been on a missionary tour
over part of the old Cariboo road. He described the scenery as
stupendous. Our engravings on pages 544 and 54G will show
the character of some of the landscapes of the interior.

The next morning it was pouring rain, but my friend would
not allow me to leave town without making the acquaintance
of a number of the good people of New Westminster. So,
equipped in a borrowed inaiarubber coat, I fared forth in
search of adventures. Those who know the relative inches of
myself and my host will kr.ov, that I was pretty well covered.
In crossing the streets I had to lift the skirts as a lady lifts her
train. I was led to the familiar precincts of a live newspaper
office, and to a number of well-filled stores that would do credit
to any town in the Dominion. The Canadian Pacific Railway
bad just completed a connecting-link from Port Moody, which
cannot fail to greatly promote the prosperity of the ancient
capital of. British Columbia.

It was a rather dismal ride in a close carriage back to Port

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596

DELICATE ATTENTIONS.

Moody, but once on the train the scenery was all the more
impressive from the sombre sky. The tremendous mountain

Chinese Barker,

background of Yale dwarfs the little town into comparative
insignificance, and forms a majestic example of mountain
grandeur and gloom. Through the gathering shadows of

FRASER CANYON.

6b7

YaU, Alio TH£ FkASEB CaNTON.

598

FRASER CANYON.

autumn twilight we plunged into the deeper shadows of the
Fraser River canyon. The arrowy river, rushing white with

rage so far below the track, looked uncanny and weird. The
tortured mist, writhing up the gorges, looked like the ghosts
of bygone storms.

TACOMA. 599

Next day was bright and beautiful, the air aa clear as crystal.

Flame-coloured patches of poplars contrasted with the deep
gieen of the cedars in the valleys, and the deep, dark purple

600

BANFF.

vistas of spruce and pine, made the serrated silver crest of the
mountains seem whiter still. It was a day of deep delight as
we threaded the passes of the Cascades, the Selkirks, and the
Rockies.

BANFF SPRINGS.

About midnight I stopped off at Banff Springs, where there
is a Government reserve" of ten miles by twenty-six, which
is being converted into a national park and health resort. A
top-heavy st. i ' '-^ ^ drove two miles to the comfortable Sana-
tarium Hotel. Canadian Pacific Railway has also erected

a magnificent hotfci at this place. There is here the making of
a noble national park. The crystal-clear Bow River meanders
through a lovely valley, begirt by lofty mountains — Mount
Cascade, rising ten thousand feet above the sea ; Norquay, nine
thousand five hundred ; Sulphur, eight thousand five hundred,
and other lesser peaks. There are three notable mineral hot
springs which have i*emarkable curative properties, especially
for rheumatic and cutaneous diseases. One of these springs,
gushing out of the rock about eight hundred feet up the slope
of Sulphur Mountain, is exceedingly hot — IIQ"" Fh. — almost too
hot for the body to bear. Rough log tanks in a log cabin
furnish facilities for a free bath. For those more fastidious,
better accommodation is provided.

Another spring was more curious still. I climbed a hill
about forty feet by steps cut in a soft porous rock, and reached
at the top an opening in the ground about four feet across.
Through this a rude ladder protruded. I descended the ladder
into a beehive- shaped cave, whose sides were hung with
stalactites. At the bottom was a pool, crystal-clear, of delight-
fully soft water at the temperature of 92°. The bottom was a
quicksand from which the water boiled so vigorously that the
body was upborne thereby, and it seemed impossible to sink.
The entrance to this grotto is now effected by a horizontal pas-
sage at its base. The Rembrandt-iike effect of the flood of
light pouring through the opening in the roof into the gloomy
cave was very striking.

At the foot of the hill is still another and more vigorously

1^..^

FOUNTAINS OF HEALING.

601

boiling spring at 96° — very much like the famous Green Cove
Spring in Florida. I bathed in all three of the fountains, and,

whatever their curative properties may be, I can bear testimony
to the delightful sensations of the two cooler springs. The
analysis of the hot spring is as follows :

omsi

602

A STRANGE FIND.

In 100,000 parts :

Sulphuric anhydrite 57 '26

Calcium monoxide 24 48

Carbon dioxide 6'47

Magnesium oxide 4"14

Sodium oxide « 27 33

123 -88

Total solids in 100,000 parts :

Calcium sulphate 5085

Magnesium sulphate 12'39

Calcium carbonate 3'29

Sodium carbonate 35 '23

Sodium sulphate 15"60

Silica, trace

This is a greater proportion of these valuable chemical con-
stituents than is possessed by the famous Hot Springs of
Arkansas. The outflow of the spring is four hundred thousand
gallons a day. Admirable roads and drives are being con-
structed. The hotel, since completed, will accommodate two
hundred persons. The elevation of this mountain valley — four
thousand feet above the sea — the magnificent scenery, the
romantic walks, and drives, and climbs, and these fountains of
healing, conspire to make this one of the most attractive sana-
taria on this continent. It is situated only nine hundred and
twenty miles west of Winnipeg.

About four o'clock, I started with a travelling companion to
climb Tunnel Mountain, which lies temptingly near, and rises
about two thousand feet above the valley. It was compara-
tively easy climbing, though in places so steep that the crum-
bling shale with which it was covered slipped down in great
sheets as wo scrambled over it. On the very highest point we
noticed a small cairn of stones, in a cleft of which was thrust a
written paper. On examining this, what was my surprise to
find a document signed by my own son and his travelling com-
panion, who had visited this spot a few weeks before. It was
a most extraordinary coincidence that we should both happen
upon the same part of the same mountain among the hundreds
of peaks of this great country.

NOBLE SCENERY.

603

The magnificent sunset view was well worth all the fatigue
of the climb. The far-winding Bow River could be traced for
many a mile through the valley. The snow-capped mountains
gathered in solemn conclave, like Titans on their lordly thrones,

o
to

on every side. The purple shadows crept over the plain and
filled the mountain valleys as a beaker is filled with wine. The
snow-peaks became suffused with a rosy glow as the sun's
parting kiss lingered on their brows. It was a world of silence,
and wonder, and delight. It was with difficulty that we could

604

COMPANIONS IN TRA VEL

tear ourselves away from the fascinating scene. Indeed, we
staid too long as it was, for we had hard work to force our way
through the tangled brushwood and cUhrls at the foot of the
mountains. We groped our way through the dark to the hotel,
whose friendly light beckoned us on, and, hungry as hunters,
did ample justice to the generous fare provided. This delightful
vicinity is destined to be a favourite resort of multitudes to
seek the recuperation of jaded nerve and brain amid these
mountain solitudes.

About midnight we started again on our eastward journey.
It is curious how people run to and fro in the earth in these
days, and think little of very long journeys. On our train were
a Dominion Senator and his daughter, from Nova Scotia,
returning from a trip to Victoria, B.C.; a Montreal and a
Toronto merchant, the latter with his wife, returning from a
business trip to the Pacific Coast ; a sweet-faced mother with
her four children, returning from Seattle, in Washington Terri-
tory, to Macchias, in Maine ; two French ladies, returning from
New Westminster to Quebec, one with a canary which she had
brought from Germany ; a Frenchman, returning from the far
West, going to Kamouraska; a young girl travelling from
Kamloops, in the Cascades, to Pictou, N.S., intending to return
in the spring ; three members of Parliament on a vacation trip
to the Pacific ; a lady from Winnipeg, on a visit to friends in
Scotland ; a gentleman and his wife, from Portage la Prairie,
returning to London ; a veteran globe-trotter. Dr. Stephenson,
prospecting for homes for the waifs of London's stony streets.
Thus human shuttles are weaving the warp and woof of life all
over the world. How infinite that Divine Providence that
holds them all " in His large love and boundless thought."

The people that one meets are often a curious study. As the
train swept round the rugged north shore of Lake Superior, in
the witching moonlight which clothed with beauty every crag
and cliff, I had a long conversation with an old tonsured and
gray-bearded Jesuit priest, who had been a missionary in that
lonely region for four and twenty years. He used to travel
five hundred miles through the wilderness on snow-shoes, car-
rying a pack of fourteen pounds on his back. He was familiar

A HEROIC MISSIOAARV. G05

with the classics, and knew all about Brtjbeuf and Jogues, his

On the Head Waters oir the AJattawa.

•j'ZZi

predecessors by two hundred and fifty years in missionary
labour among the scattered tribes of the wilderness. He told

"rT-

606

OUR HERITAGE.

me that forty-eight men had been killed by nitro-glycerine in
the construction of this part of the road.

The wilderness north of Lake Huron seemed doubly droar
under a lowering sky, the gloomy forest being blurred into
indistinctness by frequent downpours of rain. At length the
sky cleared, and under brighter auspices we reached the head
waters of the streams flowing into the Ottawa basin. Great
flights of wild fowl winnowed their slow way through the air,
and hurrying streams leaped out of the dark forest flashing in
foamy wreaths over the grey boulders on their eager way to
the distant sea.

It was a delightful change from the autumn gloom of the
measureless pine forests of the northern wilderness to the
autumn glory of the hardwood lands of Ontario. I had made
the trip of over six thousand miles, from Toronto to Victoria
and return, in comfort, in less than three weeks, traversing
.some of the richest prairie lands and some of the grandest moun-
tain scenery in the world, and gaining a new conception of the
magnificence of the national inheritance kept hidden through
the ages till, in the providence of Qod,

" The down- trodden races of Europe,
Pelt that they too were created the heirs of the earth,
And claimed ita division."

The brief and imperfect survey, contained in the foregoing
pages, of the vast extent and almost illimitable resources of
Canada should inspire the patriotic pride of every Canadian, be
he such by birth or by adoption. Other nations have struggled
into being through throes of war and blood. With a great
price obtained they the liberties which we enjoy ; but we were
f reeborn. We have no need to chafe at the filial allegiance we
sustain to the great mother of nations, whose offspring we are.
It is a golden tie of love that links us to .ler side and identifies
us with her fortunes. We may adopt the eloquent language
of Dr. Beers, of Montreal, who says : —

"As a Canadian I am at home when I land at Liverpool, at
Glasgow, at Dublin, at Bermuda, New South Wales, Victoria,
Queensland, New Guinea, Jamaica, Barbadoes or Triuidad.

ifm

BRITAIN'S GREATNESS.

607

Politically speaking I have a large share in, and am proud
of, the glorious old flag which waves over New Zealand, Aus-
tralia, Gibraltar, Malta, Hong Kong, West Africa, Ceylon,
St. Helena, Natal, British Honduras, Dominica, the Bahamas,
Grenada, Barbadoes and India. I need no other passport to
the rights of a British subject and the citizen of a great
realm, comprising sixty-five territories and islands than my
CSanadian birthright. I do not measure my national boundary
from the Atlantic to the Pacific, but from the Pacific to the
Caribbean Sea. Under the reign of Victoria no Canadian need
be ashamed to belong to an empire which embraces a fifth of
the habitable globe, and to know that his own Dominion forms
nearly a half of the whole ; an empire five times as large as
that which was under Darius ; four times the size of that under
ancient Rome ; sixteen times greater than France ; forty times
greater than United Germany; three times larger Ihan the
United States, Australia alone being nearly as big as the States;
India, neerly a million and a quarter of square miles ; Canada
six hundred thousand square miles larger than the States
without Alaska, and eighteen thousand square miles larger
with it ! An empire nearly nine millions of square miles, with
a population of three hundred and ten millions."

I cannot close this volume without casting a thought into the
future, as men drop pebbles into deep wells to .see what echo
they return. I behold.^in imagination, a grand confederation
of provinces, each large as a kingdom, stretching from ocean to
ocean, traversed by the grandest lake and river system in the
, world, and presided over, it may be, by a descendant of the
august Lady who to-day graces the most stable throne on

earth.

" I hear the tread of pioneers
Of nations yet to be,
The first h)w wash of waves where yet
Shall roll the human sca.''

At the present rate of increase, within a century a hundred
millions of inhabitants shall occupy these lands. The Canadian
Pacific Railway opens a passage from Europe to "gorgeous
Inde and far Cathay," seven hundred miles shorter than any

P«PP"

*Pf!!?swpi?pi^pP!»^i'ipwiS|Pfiiii^

fppw«

iii!liipjn»^»ii

608

OUR FUTURE.

other route. A ceaseless stream of traffic already throbs
along this iron artery of commerce, enriching with its life-
blood all the land. Qreat cities, famed as marts of trade
throughout the world, shall stand thick along this highway of
the nations ; and the names of their merchant-princes shall be
" familiar as household' words" in the bazaars of Yokohama and
Hong Kong, Calcutta and Bombay. A new England, built up
by British enterprise and industry — a worthy offspring of that
great mother o*. nations, whose colonies girdle tb^ globe — shall
hold the keyy of the Pacific Sea, and rejuvenate the effete old
nations of China and Japan. And across the broad continent
a great, free and happy people shall dwell beneath the broad
banner of Britain, perpetuating Christian institutions and
British laws and liberties, let us hope, to the end of time.

I find no more fitting close of these pages than the following
patriotic aspiration by a Canadian poet, who hides his identity
under the initials " A. C." : —

Canada ! Maple-land ! Land of great mountains !
Lake-land and river-land ! Land 'twixt the seas !
Grant us, God, hearts that are larjje ai our heritage,
Spirits as free as the breeze !

Grant us Thy fear that we walk in humility, —

Fear that is rev'rent — not fear that is base ; —
Grant to us righteousness, wisdom, prosperity,
Peace — if unstained by disgrace.

Grant us Thy love and the love of our country ;

Grani; us Thy strength, for our strength's in Thy name ;
Shield us from danger, from oveiy adversity,
Shieli I us, oh Father, from shame !

Last born of nations ! The offspring of freedom !

Heir to wide prairies, thick forests, red gold 1
God grant us wisdom to value our birthright,
Courage to guard what we hold !

mtmmmmmmmim

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